Enchaîné
by GeneWeiss
Summary: It all started out with a simple mission for the Weiss boys - assassin Jean Lobe, a scum involved in the murder of a journalist named Seta Sakimoto. Little did they know that the mission is more than it meets the eye !! (Read FULL SUMMARY) COMPLETED!!
1. Enchaîné The Full Summary

_Disclaimer: I don't own Weiß Kreuz in any way so don't sue me!!! _

**Enchaîné - The Full Summary**

It all started with a simple mission for Aya, Ken, Yoji & Omi - assassinate Jean Lobe, a scum involved in the mysterious death of Seta Sakimoto. While the _Weiß _boys were carrying out their mission, an intruder came & killed Jean Lobe before them. Intrigued, _Weiß _boys & Manx did some further investigating on their own and found out that Seta Sakimoto was a journalist who published his findings about Âme, a renowned company specializing in genetic modified plants & animals. In his article, Seta reported on the immoral diabolic deeds of Âme who used the 'unwanted' for their experiments in creating genetic modified human beings in 1989. As a result, the company was shut down & its scientists disappeared with its secrets. 

Then, things began to churn up for them, a French General named Beniamin Gloven arrived at Japan, claiming Jean Lobe's death was done by the 'Âme Children', the last few survivors of Âme's creation, whom he suspected were presently living in Japan. Omi's friendship with André Masson, a half French half Japanese baker from the neighboring stores & a teacher at Omi's school, who is gifted in some unique ways. The attempted assassination on the _Weiß _boys by the same intruder who killed Jean Lobe. Together with Manx, the _Weiß _boys traveled down to France only to tangle themselves in the cobwebs of lies, deceits & ambitions of Âme & its long forgotten children. Will they discover the true nature of their mission before the mission kills them instead? 


	2. Enchaîné Chapitre 1 Immovable remnant ...

Enchaîné - Chapitre 1 

_Though we try to walk in the light, there is a trail of darkness tailing behind. An immovable remnant of our sins… _

Beneath the crescent moon, the defined lines of the concrete buildings stood out against the dark background. The air was cool and still. Running along the walls were black-covered hunters armed with guns, each of them was masked. In single file, they ran up the staircase to the fourth level and positioned themselves outside a door. The leader waved his hand to the right and left. His men automatically stood beside the door in two groups. Treading quietly towards the door, the leader nodded his head to the man on his right. Obeying the command, the man unlocked the door with a duplicated key and kicked it wide opened. The hunters barged into the room, filling the darkness with rays of light, spreading themselves out. Their leader stepped in and examined the apartment – a single bed, table, an empty cupboard and a stove. Removing his mask, he clicked on his walkie-talkie and emotionlessly reported.

"Subject was already left the place. We are now searching at the exterior perimeters."

"Return to home base, commander," answered a heavily accented voice. "This mission is aborted."

"Yes sir."

The commander's superior clicked off, lit a cigarette and inhaled the rich tobacco fumes. Tapping on the steering wheel, he gazed the crescent moon from his windshield. Thin wisps released between his teeth, he grinned to himself as he scratched his hawk nose.

"Nous avons tout notre temps, mon petite ami… (We've all the time in the world, my little friend.)" 

"Irrashaimasen (welcome)" greeted Aya, Yoji, Ken and Omi towards the groups of high school girls. Like pins to magnets, the girls went straight to each of their favourite florists. As usual, Aya ignored them, Ken & Omi politely entertained them while they worked and Yoji enjoyed the attention but strictly mentioned that he would date girls above 18 years old. A schoolgirl rushed in and excitedly announced something.

"There is bakery shop down the street that sells delicious Danish pastries!! Plus, the guy selling them is totally drop dead gorgeous!" Her face was blushing continuously.

"Are you sure?" The girl's friends asked skeptically.

"Of course, I am." Holding up a brown paper bag, "Try them for yourselves." The girls popped one into their mouths, their faces widen into a big smile.

"OISHII (DELICIOUS)!!"

"Mase wa doko? (Where's the shop)?"

"Kaimashou! (Let's buy!)"

The boys looked at each other as they watched the girls scurrying out of the florist shop. Women could really adapt to situations when they want to. Yoji amusingly commented that Ken and Omi should go and pay a visit the new store since they won't have business today. Protests rose up from the two younger boys but eventually gave in since they both knew that they wouldn't stand a chance facing Yoji's wits and Aya's couldn't-be-bothered attitude. They didn't spend much time finding the bakery since there was a large group of girls crowding at the counter. Behind the counter was a young man with shoulder-length raven hair contrasting to the fairly creamy skin. His eyebrows were arched and trimmed finely at the far end. His eyes were seaweed green and a soft curved nose in the middle of his feminine face with lips that made every girl had a feverish dream about kissing them.

Dressed in a plain apron and a bakery hat, he silently chopped butter and put them in a pan filled with water. Using a wooden spoon, he stirred till the butter has melted before removing the pan from the stove, which he added flour and heated the mixture once again. The girls paid their utmost attention at him than they did at school. Switching on an electric beater, he poured in a small bowl of lightly beaten eggs in the mixture until it became glossy and thick. With a spoon, he scooped it into a piping bag and piped long thin finger-like pieces onto a baking tray. Bending down, the placed the tray inside an oven. From another oven, he took out another tray, which contained the baked finger-like pieces. Swiftly, he pierced the sides of the pastries, releasing the aroma that made the mouths of the girls watered. Returning to the stove, he melted some dark chocolate and placed them aside. From the refrigerator, he took out a huge bowl of whipped cream. He then spilt the pastries into half and piped white cream onto the bottom half while the top half is covered with a layer of chocolate. The cream-filled bottom half is finally covered with the chocolate coated top half. The baker then placed the pastries onto rectangular paper foils before packing them into boxes. To add the finishing touches, he dusted icing sugar on them. The box is closed and tied with a red ribbon with a tag attached to it. On the tag, printed in cursive handwriting, read the word 

**éclairs**. 

"Bon appétite." He said in smooth quiet way, passing the box to one of the girls, who nearly fainted on the spot. Awes and cries of amazement filled the entire street. Ken and Omi felt uncomfortable standing behind them and waited patiently for the crowd to die down. Throughout the young man worked undisturbed by the girls' noisy commotion, his eyes and hands kept on their tasks. Occasionally, he would give a polite smile to the girls whose hearts leaped a thousand times over. Yet, the masqueraded smile was shielding him from others' pressing questions about him.

"So, you guys are finally back," teased Yoji when Ken and Omi returned. "Did you enjoy the ladies' presence?" 

"Very funny," Omi opened a box of éclairs. "But to you, you might like it." 

"Omi, my boy. You are still too young to understand the pleasure of being with women," Helping himself to an éclair. "My goodness, it's delicious. I can't believe that he can make this. How old is he anyway?" 

"Early twenties, I think," relied Ken, taking a drink. "His name is Andre Masson, half Japanese and half French. His mother passed away and his father is living in France. Andre decided to live in Japan because he likes it here rather than staying in France. The_ boulangerie_ (bakery shop) is a temporary working place for him while he studies art and literature at a local university." 

"He seems to be quite an interesting person, don't you think so, Aya?" 

Aya ate his éclair in silence. 

Yoji sighed with annoyance and was tempted to pull Aya under his arm and rubbed his head to rub off some of the icy attitude of his. The idea was dropped because he knew that Aya would probably evade it or would have his revenge on him later. He chuckled at the thought of Aya being less serious. On the other hand, it would be rather creepy. He heard the sound of high heel shoes walking towards the counter. He needed not to look up, as there was only one person who would wear such red shoes. But, it would be no harm to have a peek of her shapely legs. 

"This is no time for idling, Yoji," said Manx. "It's time for Weib to hunt those who think that they have escaped the law of justice." 

A crumpled dressed man was panicking packing his papers into a leather suitcase. The flapping of papers echoed within the walls of his room, as his fingers shook under the dimly lit room. He kept muttering to himself to be quicker. As the clock chimed the midnight hour, the hairs on his skin stood out and a prickling sensation traveled down his sweaty back. His eyes rolled all the room, wet palms cautiously clicking the suitcase with the least noise as possible. He turned to the window and saw the curtains flapping along with the night breeze. Being extremely careful, he closed the window and locked it. Gulping in down a bottle of alcohol to relieve himself, he proceeded on to leave. Taking out his key, he unlocked the door and was completely stunned to see a figure standing before him. He could vaguely make out a man dressed in shirt and jeans with a jacket. The stranger's gloves had three long pointed blades attached to it, twinkling under the dimly light. A bead of sweat trickled down the man's face as he realized the true occupation of the stranger. 

An assassin! 

The assassin raised his glove, ready to strike him down. Like a desperate prey, the man whammed his suitcase into the assassin's stomach hard and pushed his way out down the staircase. The assassin cursed as he forced himself to get onto his feet. The prey ran down the staircase, clutching the suitcase close to him. He saw a thin shining line aiming towards him. Within a blink of an eye, he felt the stinging pain of the lines cutting through his skin. Approaching him was a tall stranger with blonde hair. Another predator. 

"Your death will be less painful if you don't move so much. Ken, finish the mission and we all can go home in time to watch the late night movie." 

"Shut up, Yoji." His companion retorted. "It always has to be me, isn't it?" 

Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass shattered the silence. The three men all turned to the source of it. Half hidden by the shadows was a black leather-suited person. His face was covered by a mask that looked like a tribal witchdoctor's mask. Yoji and Ken narrowed their eyes to determine whether this intruder was a male or female. The prey cried out in horror. The intruder walked down the stairs one boot at a time and examined the two unexpected individuals. Ken prepared himself for any surprised attacks from the intruder, who said in an extremely deep accented voice. 

"Pardon the intrusion, gentlemen but the subject is my target and no one else is allowed to have him." 

Springing forward, he placed his gloved into Ken's claws and instantly, bright blue lights sparkled into Ken's body. Ken cried out in agony and collapsed onto the stairs. Yoji released his hold on the prey and aimed his string towards the intruder, who leaped down the staircase, slide behind Yoji's back and did karate chop on his neck. The intruder grabbed hold of the frightened prey and pulled him towards the main door. The prey struggled for his life against the intruder who pinned him to the wall and pressed his glove onto the prey's mouth. 

"If you wish to live, follow me. Take your suitcase with you" The deep voice hissed. "Listen, there are two more assassins outside the perimeter. When I count to three, you run to the car beneath the Sakura tree and start the motor. I'll fend them off just long enough to get us both out of here." 

The prey nodded his head in compliance, knowing that the present choice was better than the last one. The intruder held out 3 fingers, folding them one by one slowly. At the last finger, he kicked the door opened. As predicted, a couple of arrows landed at their feet. The intruder pushed his subject out of the way into the direction of the Sakura tree. More arrows shot out from the darkness. The intruder dodged them skillfully, keeping a sharp lookout for the last assassin. A red haired man in black trench coat with a Japanese sword raced up to strike him down. The intruder took out his metal equipment and blocked the deadly blow. The red haired man, Aya, widened his eyes at the recognition of the metal equipment and jumped backwards. He turned and saw Omi running towards the intruder, with his crossbow in its aiming position. 

"Omi! Don't!" Aya yelled out a warning. 

The intruder released a ray of sparking blue light at the unaware Omi, whose high-pitched screams filled the air. Steams rose from his falling body. Aya gnashed his teeth for being too late. 

"The electric charge is set to stun mode. The health status of your comrades will not be affected." The intruder said, walking towards the car. "Let this be the first and last time we see each other." Aya watched the car disappearing into the darkness. Frowning with uncertainty, he set on to check on his friends. 

The car drove down into an empty parking lot, the man kept his eyes on the stranger, not sure whether to name him his saviour. Still holding on to his suitcase, he murmured. 

"Merci beaucoup. (Thank you very much)" 

"Ca ne m'a pas du tout derange (It was no trouble at all)" 

"Parlez-vous francais? (You speak French?)" 

"Peut-être…. (Maybe…)" 

"Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire, au juste? (What do you mean by that?)" 

"J'ai peur (I'm afraid…)" The intruder turned his head at him and said coldly. "Il y a eu un malentendu… (There has been a misunderstanding…)"

"ITAI!! (OUCH!!)," groaned Yoji, pressing an icepack on the dark purplish bruise on the back of his neck. "I feel like a thousand ton of lead is upon me."

"At least, you didn't get electrocuted unlike Omi and I," Ken swallowed a pill. "My head is killing me."

"Luckily, it was set to stun mode," Manx paced about the room. "Otherwise, you'll be toasted like our intended target, Jean Lebo" She went up to the computer on the desk and clicked on the keyboard keys. The screen revealed a charred body. "He was reported electrocuted to death by the autopsy at least 3 hours you boys have left the scene."

"That person was after him for some reason," Aya commented. "Initially, this mission was to assassin Jean Lebo because he was involved with a murder of a journalist, Seta Sakimoto."

"Jean Lebo formally work for a company named Âme, which was shut down by the French government over ethical and moral issues 10 years ago. Originally, Âme specialized in genetically modified animals and plants. Rumours have it that Âme was illegally involved in experiments on genetically modified human beings. Its victims were convicts on death payroll or the homeless. Sakimoto, who was living in Nice, discovered this while investigating a story on some French actress. He published his findings on the local newspapers because he knew that the local police were probably bribed and wouldn't lift a finger about it. To them, it was the most convenient way to get rid of the unwanted," continued Manx, placing a bundle of thick files onto the coffee table. "Sakimoto died under mysterious conditions 6 months after the shutdown of Âme. The police have declared it closed until Persia learnt about it from his sources. These are the files, which Persia managed to get from the confidential room. Apparently, these files were supposed to be going into the shedder." She walked towards the winding staircase. "I'll leave you boys to rest as you try to interpret the data."

Omi stretched his hand over to the coffee table, took one of the files, untied and read its contents. "Oh no!" he moaned, "It's all in FRENCH!"

"So, that is what she meant by 'interpret' the data," Yoji bent over, his hand still holding onto the icepack. "Good luck to you, Omi." He picked up a zip disc from one of the files. "Maybe this one will be in Japanese."

"Ha ha," Omi feeling very much to hit Yoji on his injured area. "Very funny."

Aya took the files from the coffee tables. "I'll translate them for you," he said quietly and went straight to his room. Yoji, Ken and Omi looked at each other in surprise.

Omi blinked his eyes a couple of times, "Does Aya know French?" He asked Ken.

"Beats me," Ken shrugged his shoulders. "But I do know that he studies German."

"If Aya is unable to translate them, the least we will ask Andre to do the translation for us."

Both Ken and Omi glared at Yoji intensely.

"Just kidding…"

Meanwhile, the intruder who attacked Weib flung a leather suitcase onto a bed, took out a toolbox beneath the bed and chose a screwdriver to unlock the suitcase. His fingers browsed through the papers, which mainly consisted of traveling papers and money. He placed them in neatly into two separate piles and looked at the empty suitcase. Tilting his head, he rubbed his fingers along the inner corners of the suitcase. With a sharp knife, he silted a thin line across the inner leathery layer and wedged the loosened layer up. Taped at the hidden bottom of the suitcase was a cobalt blue CD-rom disc. He removed the tape carefully and inserted the disc into his laptop, waiting patiently for the laptop to process the data. Within a few minutes, the screen displayed a list of names. Scrolling down, he clicked onto the word, 'Âme'. The screen changed, displaying 3 other word surrounding 'Âme' in a triangular position.

**Naissance**

**Âme**

**Pierre Tombale **** Longévité**

He then clicked onto the '_pierre tombale'_ section and the screen showed an extremely long table of names. A majority of them were highlighted in red save for a few in dark brown. The intruder typed onto the keyboard. Instantly, the screen shows 3 names.

**Subjet 9374 **

**Subjet 9377 **

**Subjet 9379 **

He proceed on to click on 'Sujet 9377', a small table was shown next.

**Sujet 9377 **

Date de creation - 12th Juin 1979 

Gendre - Mâle 

Âge - 20 

Emplacement actuel - Tokyo, Japon 

Statut - Tres Dengereux 

Chasser - Général Beniamin Gloven 

"Général Beniamin Gloven… en mettant les choses au pis… (If worst comes to worst)…"

"Welcome, General Beniamin Gloven," greeted Manx, dressed in dark red business suit, shaking hands with a clean shaved man whose height towered over hers. The General was attired in a three-piece tuxedo, his bushy eyebrows shadowed over his deep-sunken eyes. The half-grayish hair was cropped, enhancing his rectangular face twice the original size. In his other hand was a lit cigar. 

"Mademoiselle (miss) Manx," spoke the General, sitting down onto a velvet chair. He crossed his legs and inhaled the smoke deeply. "Forgive me for not informing you for my arrival. My superiors would like to keep this incident under wraps for security reasons."

"I understand your delicate position, General," Manx poured coffee into a cup. "With sugar and milk?"

"Yes, please." The General took the cup with both hands. "Let's us get to the bottom of this pressing issue, the late Jean Lebo was murdered in the most uncivilized manner. I appreciate the effect that you kept this from the reporters. His death was a shock to me and my people."

"It is part of my duty to keep the national peace between both countries. I'm sure that most men like yourself would prefer to spend the rest of your days in his homelands."

"That is my wish, Mademoiselle Manx. Unfortunately, I have to settle this before I can enter retirement. Back to the main issue of our discussion, I'm most certain that you are aware of the connection between Jean Lebo and a Japanese journalist whose death was classified 'under mysterious conditions'."

"The journalist's name was Seta Sakimoto. He did publish a disturbing article about Âme's illegal involvement of genetically modified human beings on 24th October 1989, which lead to an uproar in the government. He returned to Japan 5 weeks later, followed by his death on 29th May 1990. The autopsy couldn't find the cause of his death and all presumed that he died naturally. The case is closed and locked away. No investigation is allowed till today and even if permission is granted, Sakimoto's body had been cremated. Therefore," Manx took a sip. "The cause of his death will never be determined. Nevertheless, the motive of his death is very clear and I think that we both know that without doubt."

"Revenge," General Gloven rubbed his double chin thoughtfully. "Âme does have a substantial amount of financial sources to carry out its work although the government has shut the company down. Its founders are still able to find buyers to purchase their 'products' at a price that could outlive a million lifetimes worth of salary that you and I are earning now."

"And this 'product' would be the genetically modified human beings?" Manx stirred her coffee nonchalantly.

General Gloven laughed softly. "That is impossible. Genetically modified animals and plants, yes… but human beings. In theory, it does sound logical but in practice, absolutely impossible. The human body will naturally reject the foreign substances in the end and the ill fated will either die or be retarded for the rest of his life."

"Then, why was Jean Lebo killed?" Manx pressed forward. "He was one of Âme's founders. Why was he killed?"

"Like you said, Mademoiselle Manx. Revenge."

"By who and why? General Gloven."

"I'm afraid that I don't have the answers. Naturally, the whole thing was set to rest when Âme was shut down…"

"Do the rest of Âme's founders know about Jean Lebo's death? Monsieur Gerald Hermil, the president of Âme. The co-president - Jeremy Jorom and his wife, Lilia Jorom. Including Jean Lobe and his three fellow colleagues, Nicolas Numasm, Phile Raginwald and Fideline Josette. Are they informed of this? This is a grave matter, General. Whatever these people have created, it is something not to be taken of lightly."

General Gloven pressed his lips tightly before giving a sigh of submission. "You are right, forgive my manners, I do not mean to hide anything from you. My superiors would like to do this discreetly. To be honest, the president, co-president and his wife are decreased 5 years ago. The four remaining founders spilt up, taking with them a portion of their research along with them. From our sources, we discovered that they did create successful genetically modified human beings. The amount and their capabilities are still unknown. We managed to track down Jean Lebo here in Tokyo. But alas, he is dead!"

"And you assumed that whatever they have created had killed him for revenge."

"Who knows?" General Gloven threw up his hands to the air. "Âme shut down so quickly and abruptly that they could have destroyed any evidence. But there is one thing is for certain, Mademoiselle Manx. That thing that killed Jean Lebo may be still in Tokyo and who knows what it might do."

The afternoon sun was burning hot upon the streets of Tokyo. From her windowpane, Manx watched the huge burley General Gloven being lead into his car and drove down to the main road. "So, what do you think of him?" Manx asked Persia who merged out from his hiding place after General Gloven's car had left the building. "If you ask me, he's pretty easy to squeeze."

"Maybe too easy," said the moustache man, joining Manx at the windowpane. "Seems like he is saying things that both of us want to hear. It was wise of you not to mention Sakimoto's files. He would have flipped." 

"Still, he is fearful of the things that Âme have created… That cannot be confirmed until Aya and the rest have translated what Sakimoto had written in his journal and all the related documents that the police had found."

"It would take time since he written it all down in French."

"The boys can handle this. But I wonder if…" Manx's eyes narrowed. "Seta Sakimoto would want us dig up what he hoped to be buried." 

**_ À Suivre _**


	3. Enchaîné Chapitre 2 What should to be ...

Enchaîné - Chapitre 2 

What should to be hidden, should be kept hidden…

Seta Sakimoto's journal, translated by Aya… 

**12th August 1989**

I arrived in Nice at 0930hrs. The weather was cool and its refreshing morning air after spending hours in the stuffy crammed airplane. At 1030hrs, I board a bus, heading towards my temporary staying place – Hotel du repos. On the way, I rested my head upon the windowpane and watched the grass plains…. At 1230hrs, after my first taste of French food for lunch, I received a packaging from my Company, which filled me in the details of my assignment to investigate the French actress, Sophie Amiel, who was rumoured about her taking drugs before each performance. I felt very enthusiastic about taking this task and told myself to do well….

**15th August 1989**

My investigation on Sophie Amiel was leading me to a dead end. There was no physical evidence to prove her taking of drugs. Her performance was divine and captivating despite the disappointment. I sometimes wonder if the Company assigned this pointless task as a way to 'get rid' of me for the time being. Nevertheless, I paid close attention to her as much as I could get close to her in a tasteful manner. After all, one must be careful in a foreign land. At the dining hall of the theatre, I was interested by a peculiar group of hers. Politely asking a waiter, I was told that these people were the established associates of a company named Âme who specialized in genetically modified plants. Instantly, I sensed a faint glimpse of hope in salvaging my pitiful findings. The President of Âme, Gerald Hermil, whose face and structure were like those of a shriveled gorilla; his co-president, Jeremy Jorom and his wife, Lilia Jorom who wore excessive jewellery to compensate for her roundness, so did her equally round husband. There were 4 more companions surrounding the goddess of theater - Jean Lobe, Nicolas Numasm, Phile Raginwald and Fideline Josette. The most noticeable person whom I find the most opportunity as a reporter is Jean Lobe. His cheeks were thin and narrow, which protruded the hooked nose like a wooden puppet with a stick nose. The eyes seemed like they would budge out any moment as his hand kept on fiddling in his outer jacket pockets. The rest seemed indifferent in his irritating movements and carried on their conversation. What disturbed me was why would Sophie Amiel engrossed herself in the company of scientific people rather in theater or film directors and producers that had the potential power to further glorified the goddess statue that she presently possess?

Then back at a corner of the dining hall was a child, dressed in frills and flocks. Her beauty inside the child was spell bounding. Golden hair like the morning sun, blue eyes as the bluest sea… …. … She walked her way towards the Sophie (who was happily chatting away about fashion like all women do), brushed past Sophie's arm and down towards the entrance. At the corner of my sharp eye, I was very certain that child did put a jeweled bangle into folds of her sleeve. I put out my hand to stop her but my hand went past her like she was made up of air. Rubbing my eyes, I thought at first that I had too much to drink but I was extremely sure that I did witnessed what I did saw.

**16th August 1989**

Alas, I woke up at 1400hrs with a dreadful hangover. With a cup of strong black coffee by my side, I read the papers. At the front page was a huge article about Sophie Amiel had lost a bangle worth 90 thousands francs. The first thing that came to my mind was the child. Yet, it puzzled me that I wasn't able to touch her. A ghost? Impossible! Then again, it could be since such old theaters would be the home for wandering spirits. God bless them and keep them away from me.

**17th August 1989**

Today, I decided to go and do some sightseeing at the tourist attractions in Nice….

**20th August 1989**

A most strange incident had happened today, I was walking down late at night along the pavement outside the bank when I thought I saw two children climbing onto the outer pillars and up onto the roof. Though the night was dark, the moonlight rays helped in assisting my night vision. I was startled for I had never seen anyone doing a dare devil stunt let alone a child. My feet automatically stepped backwards and went straight for my hotel yet my mind was screaming at me to get back there and investigate as a reporter. I didn't. Thankfully. Well, I guess it must be the French air that must had clouded my mind into playing such tricks on me.

**21st August 1989**

I stared very hard at the morning papers; it was like being a thriller movie or something. The bank that I walked past by last night was robbed! The policemen were bluffed by how the robbers went in the out of the bank. The doors had shown of forced entry, even the locks in what one say the 'money room'. There was no way that they could know the code numbers since it was known to a very small group of people and even if they knew, how would they pass by the security guards who patrolled at regular intervals? Instantly, my thoughts were on the children that I saw. But there was no possible explanation for this. Further readings on the article, some organizations were affected by the great financial losses except for a few like Âme…. Âme! They appeared on the day that Sophie's bangle was stolen… could they be a part of this crime? The money and the jewel bangle could be enormous financial source for their genetically modified plants research. But how did they do it? Those children that I saw? But how? There was no way that they have the capability to do it. This company, Âme was surely the source of this. Unfortunately, I had to think of a good reason for extending my stay in Nice…

**25th August 1989**

Lady Luck was smiling at me as my Company had approved of my proposal to give a report of genetically modified plants after waiting patiently for 3 days. With no doubt, the readers in Japan would be interested this and this would make the rivals green with envy. Putting on my best suit that I could find, I went to the Âme Company like a professional reporter. The secretary led me to Mr. Nicolas Numasm's room. I sat down and waited for him to return from a 'very important' meeting, as stated by his secretary. Not long, Mr. Numasm appeared. His features were so well defined that an amateur would be able to draw him in quite details… …. With his nasal French accent, he went on talking about the history and the development of Âme and its genetically modified products after the discovery of the structure of DNA by James Watson & Francis Crick in 1962…

"…. With these genetically modified products, we are able to decrease yield losses and solve the problems of starvation and agriculture issues." (I wonder how did I manage to keep myself looking so keen about them.)

Then, I asked a very bold question, which made me regret it very much. "That was all very interesting, Mr. Numasm but I was wondering, forgive me if this sounds very ridiculous but would it be possible to have genetically modified humans?"

Mr. Numasm stared at me with such a frown yet I looked at him like I expected him to provide me with a suitable answer. There was an awkward moment of silence. With my wits, I quickly filled in the space.

"Don't get me wrong. What I meant to say is that Âme is able to produce crops that are resistant to insects, herbicides and diseases through genetic modification. Would it be possible to genetically modify the genes of a human being to be resistant against death causing diseases like cancer?"

"That may be a possibility of such advanced improvement. Yet, we are still dealing with pressing issues such as environment impact and other heavily arguments on ethical values posted by the religious groups in France. 

You see, Mr. Sakimoto. They defined genetically modified plants and animals as a blasphemy to God and that we are defiling his wonders and His works. Diseases and insect infestation are part of His works, which I believe in and so does my colleagues. Yet, it would a blasphemy to God if we didn't use our brains as he so wisely has given them to us. Of course, there is a limit in everything including science. To create genetically modified human beings is…" He took in a deep breath. "Beyond the intelligent limitations that our human brains possess. The mystery of the creation of men has been the most disturbing topic of the century. There are simply too many theories to conclude the best. As for me, I prefer not to interfere on how God create his most magnificent creations of all." 

With that end, I ushered out of the building as quickly as possible. Somehow, I felt that they hoped that would be the last they would see me. 

**26th August 1989**

I decided to stay in my room for the day. While lazing about on the bed, I received a telephone call. Feeling surprised, I put up the receiver and greeted the caller. His voice was in a harsh whisper, almost in a panicky tone. 

"If you want to get the scoop, meet me at the cafe 3 blocks away from your hotel at 11p.m. the name is _savoureuse_." 

Before I could reply the caller, he had already slammed down the phone. Picking up a pen, I thought and wrote the pros and cons on the decisions that would probably affect my life forever. If I chose to go, my life would be in perilous danger with no coming back. If I chose not to, I would still have my job based on the report on Âme and maybe live my life that way for the next 20 years or so. Then again, if I chose to go.... 

After spending the whole afternoon till late evening, I came to the conclusion to meet this 'informer'. At the cafe, I sat at the far end that was less conspicuous from the rest. Ordering myself coffee, I settled myself reading a magazine and observed the cafe. The place was decorated with... An hour later, a man sat across me. I peered at the corner and looked at him for a moment. His hands were shaking and kept on fiddling the menu. I (pretending to be very composed) said, "Your name is Jean Lobe, I assume?" 

Immediately, Jean Lobe became a startled rabbit. "You know about it, don't you?" He stammered. 

"Know what? I only saw you at the theatre with the lovely Sophie Amiel, who lost her bangle jewel recently." Almost enjoying being the tormentor. "Other than that, what else should I know?" 

"I saw her, didn't you?" 

"Who? Sophie Amiel?" 

"The child. The girl." 

"Girl? What girl?" 

Jean Lobe took out his handkerchief and wiped his sweat beads on his forehead. "Look, you don't have to pretend. You saw her, didn't you? If you haven't, you wouldn't be at Âme yesterday." 

"I was there based on my occupation, Mr. Lobe. I need to show something to my boss back home in Japan if I want to keep my job." 

Mr. Jean Lobe looked at me trying his best to determine what sort of character am I. Taking in very deep drink of his beer, he rubbed his hands, pulled his face, straightened himself up before continuing, "If I tell you what you want to know, would you promise that you never hear this from me and that state in your article that I was never involved in it?" 

"This proposal sounds rather murky, don't you think? What is it that you wouldn't want yourself to be involved with this?" 

"Do you want to get the scoop or not?" 

"Why do you want me to get it?" 

"Because its better for an outsider like you to handle this than getting someone from here." 

"Why? Can't the police handle this?" 

"If they could, I wouldn't be here!" His looks looked pleading. "Please, I cannot stand it any longer. The more I stay like this, I will lose my mind and soul." 

I arched my eyebrows. "Go on…" 

"Man has been always trying to go beyond the limitations of everything under the sun. Through genetically modification, we are been able to solve the world's agriculture problems and yet invest in a fair share of the market. The success was so great that it came to us that if we are able to modify the genes of plants and animals, we might be able to modify the genes of a human being. Theatrically, it sounds possible but there is a consideration that the human body would not be able to withstand the modification. Yet, the urge to experiment overpowers us and we made a deal with the army to fund us while we carried out the experiments. The deal was that as long as we succeed the desired creations without any defects, they would provide us with the subjects." 

"So, the experiment was indeed conducted with humans." 

"The army classified them as the 'unwanted'." 

"Care to define the meaning of 'unwanted'?" 

"I was not given the information of where and how they get them." 

"So, by using these 'unwanted' people, Âme was succeeded. But how was it done? It is not possible with the biotechnology that we have now. In the future, maybe…" 

"Although there were doubts, acceptable hosts were found during the process." 

"Like the child who stole Sophie Ameil's bangle?" 

"She was one of those who undergoes the modification without much harm. Very fortunate for her age." 

"And yet she is used by Âme to do low lying crimes like pick pocketing. Quite ironic, don't you think?" 

"Maybe but how was she able to take the bangle from her when she had it on her arm? The bangle was made to fit her like a glove." 

"I suppose that she and the others are able to do other unexplainable things that baffled the police. Let's say like robbing a bank?" 

Mr. Jean Lobe's face nearly drained its entire colour. Instantly, he took another gulp of his beer …. "You saw them, too?" 

"You shouldn't be so vexed since the police will assume that I'm insane if I mention things like children climbing the pillars of the bank with any safety gear. Nobody will believe a wild tale especially from a foreigner." 

Mr. Jean Lobe left the place seconds after I said my last sentence. Overall, it was very bizarre that he would reveal the doings of Âme to me. Wouldn't it place him in a dangerous position? 

**27th August 1989 **

Once more, I thought of lazing around since it won't be long before I return to Japan. Yet, I received an invitation from the divine actress, Sophie Amiel, to come to her lodging and have an exclusive interview of her. I was dumbfounded. It seemed that Âme had known of my meeting with Jean Lobe. To turn it down would spell disaster for him and me, as this was my initial assignment. With not much of a choice, I put on my best suit and prepare to her. … … … … 

… … then her lustrous lips parted, "You must be wondering how did I get to know your whereabouts? To be honest, I notice at the dining hall the other day. My manager did too and he suggested strongly I should have an interview with you as an opportunity to expand my fame to other parts of the world beside Europe. So," her fingers folded together. "Shall we get started? I know that you have a lot of questions to ask." 

"Well then, first of all, let's start with the basics…. 

… … … … "Mr. Seta Sakimoto, you are indeed a professional journalist. Is there any other questions clot in your creative mind of yours?" 

"Yes, I do have." Mentally preparing for any reaction. "What do you know about Âme?" 

The divined actress's eyes squinted at me before enlarging them and shaking her head. "What do I know about them? Just a bunch of scientists doing something apart from their locked up dull lives." 

"You seemed rather to be more than that." 

"As someone famous, one has to put on a good show at all times even after a performance. This is what I have to bear as long as the media has their eyes on me. I'm afraid that's all the time, we have. I do hope that you enjoy the remaining days in Nice before returning to Japan next week." 

With that, her butler led me out. It was a stroke of luck for me, which I think that would earn me a promotion or a rise in the salary. Maybe I could a buy a new apartment or get myself a wife. Or maybe I should… … Then, a thought came to me. 

How did she know that I was returning to Japan next week? 

**28th August 1989 **

I pondered over the bizarre things that are happening to me. First, I saw a child pick pocketing. Second, children robbing a bank. Third, a secret meeting with Jean Lobe. Fourth, a once in the lifetime interview with Sophie Ameil. Coincident? One thing for sure, it was simply too easy. Too smooth and slick. There is something going on at Âme and I must poke my nose into this matter even if it makes my boss upset for extending my stay in Nice. … … … 

Aya lifted his head and looked at the clock, dawn was coming soon. He could hear Omi getting out of his room and preparing to go to school. Poor kid, he must have been staying up all night trying to extract information from that zip disk. Guess that the information was in Japanese after all. He flipped the remaining pages of Seta Sakimoto's journal and heaved a sigh. A few hours' of sleep would do him good before he continued. 

Omi moaned as he stretched his aching limbs in his classroom while his other classmates bickered among themselves about the things that they are supposed to do after school, mainly hanging around the shopping malls. The hot topic of the day was that the changing of the school system to be a 5 day instead of a 6 day. Everybody was in high spirits of the news including some of the teachers. To them, it wasn't the issue of how they might be affected; it was that they could have a free day to themselves without the burden of schoolwork and grades upon their frail backs. After all, youth happen only once. 

Closing his eyes, Omi laid upon his crossed arm for a mini 40 wrinkles. Staying awake after night duties is extremely tedious, fortunately, the teachers were informed about him being an orphan and had to work nightshift in order to fend for himself. So, they were quite lenient on him and allowed him some time extension for any individual homework or report. Despite the accommodations given, Omi always handed in his work on time, not wanting the other students to feel jealous of his so-called privileges. Deep down, Omi always wondered what was it like to be a normal student, to 'hang around' at places. He bit his lip in envy. Suddenly, the bickering fell into a dark silence. Omi peered up and saw the principle standing by the doorway; standing beside him was someone familiar. 

The principle stepped into the classroom, his hand folded behind his back. With hawking eyes, he encircled the entire classroom, making every student squint under his view. Grunting, he spoke like an officer from a concentrated camp. 

"Today, you will have a new English language teacher," He beckoned the teacher to step in. Omi blinked his eyes in surprise. It was André Masson from the bakery shop. Thin-rimmed glasses were placed before the seaweed eyes and he was dressed in neat and crisp working clothes. Omi could hear the girl sitting behind him sighing. Somehow, he could sense that the girls in his class were having an intense crush on him. The principle seemed to be approving of the excellent attention that the class was expressing. 

"His name is André Masson. He will be taking you for the next few months in replacement of your former teacher who has gone for maternity leave. I do trust that you will study hard for your coming tests and exams." He patted his head on André's shoulder. "They are all yours." 

André quietly took out the registrar booklet and parted his lips to speak. The girls automatically leaned forward. With a slight French accent, he spoke, "Since this is the first day that we have met, I would like to take this opportunity to get to know each other. When I read out your names, please raise up your hand. As you would probably tell from my accent, I'm not born in Japan. So, after taking your attendance, we could spend some to get to know each other, as it is not my policy to give lessons on my first day. Is everybody agreeable on this?" 

All the girls showed their enthusiasm while the guys nodded their head dumbly. Within a few minutes, André was showered with questions from everybody, from usual ones from his background and to cheeky ones. Omi leaded his head upon the palm of his right hand. Not because he couldn't be bothered but because he had heard them all at the florist shop with the rest of the gang. With listening ears and half opened eyes, he observed André's ability in handling the students' questions ranging from basic questions concerning his background to cheeky and even flirtatious ones. Overall, it was obvious that he was in total control of the situation. Yet, the most curious thing that Omi noticed that André remembered everybody's names like he had been with them for a long time.

And he had only seen the register booklet once.

Manx clicked the mouse several times as she viewed the footage of the intruder fighting Aya and Omi at the exterior perimeters. Thankfully, the hidden camera had almost a clear view of the scene. The intruder was indeed a professional, maybe much more than Weib could handle. She cringed as she watched the intruder had Omi electrocuted. With a blackball point pen, she wrote 'ruthless' onto her note pad. A moment of satisfaction took her but it instantly changed when she amplified the sound volume. A deep voice penetrated into the room. 

"The electric charge is set to stun mode. The health status of your comrades will not be affected. Let this be the first and last time we see each other."

She clicked onto the rewind button.

"The electric charge is set to stun mode. The health status of your comrades will not be affected. Let this be the first and last time we see each other."

She clicked onto the rewind button again.

"The electric charge is set to stun mode. The health status of your comrades will not be affected. Let this be the first and last time we see each other." 

The red lips twisted with doubt with the word 'ruthless' is appropriate as it seemed that it doesn't fit into the description of the intruder. If he was really ruthless, Weib could be like the charred corpse of the late Jean Lebo. How was the intruder connected to Jean Lebo? Was he sent to finish him off?

She inserted a CD-ROM disc into the computer, waited for a few minutes for the screen to show something useful. General Gloven personally had his men to deliver the disc during the late evening; the note attached to it said that she would be able to find some leading clues about Âme. She sucked in another mouthful of coffee and watched the screen showing up a several of icons. Moving the cursor, she clicked onto one of them. It was a French newspaper article, followed by a translation in Japanese.

"16th August 1989, the renown actress, Sophie Amiel was pick pocketed of her arm bangle worth 90 thousands francs. The divine actress swore that she had the bangle with her all the time and that was impossible for anyone to steal it from her without her knowing it. Footage had revealed that she was completely surrounded by celebrities and close friends…" she murmured. "No one knew how the bangle was stolen despite the tight security."

"21st August 1989, thieves were able to break into one of the most secure banks in France…. Police found no traces of the criminals and found it bluffing that the thieves were able to carry out their operation without being detected by the sensors and the intensive routine duties..." Her eyebrows arched at the end. "Why am I not surprised?"

She proceeded onwards to a media file icon and clicked on it. The screen changed to the blank screen with white bold words – 15th August 1989. 12 30midnight.

It switched to a crowd of people gathering in the extremely decorated dining hall and in the center of the crowd was a woman whose beauty was like a Geek goddess. Her copper red hair plied in thick lock upwards, exposing the curved neck donned with priceless jewellery. Beads dangled down her ear lobes. The evening grown was made of the softest satin lined with fur. The way she laughed and chatted with her guests like she was life itself. Upon her right arm was the famous bangle.

"Sophie Amiel…" Manx held up a couple of photos by her side, watching the actress placing her attention onto another group of people. "The late President of Âme, Gerald Hermil; the late co-president, Jeremy Jorom and his wife, Lilia Jorom, Nicolas Numasm, Phile Raginwald, Fideline Josette and the recently decreased Jean Lobe."

Then, the screen moved towards a little girl, dressed in a long sleeved flock. Her hair was as golden as the brightest sunray and the eyes blue as the bluest sea upon the ivory skin and lips full in pink. She moved smoothly along the crowds of adults and towards Sophie Amiel. She brushed past her and onwards to the exit. On her way, a Japanese man seemed to be reaching out his arm towards her but seemed to miss her. Manx frowned and quickly enhanced the image repeatedly till her view was like she was at the very scene herself. 

Her eyes widened.

"What the…"

**_ À Suivre _**


	4. Enchaîné Chapitre 3 It takes a lifetim...

Enchaîné - Chapitre 3 

It takes a lifetime to know yourself, maybe even longer …

General Benjamin Gloven lit up a Cuba cigar and puffed clouds of tobacco smoke while deep thoughts raced around his mind. Jean Lobe would have been the key to end Âme's treachery. It wasn't his luck that Jean Lobe was killed around before he could. What he feared that the remnants of Âme's genetically modified humans would do something far worse than the international terrorists had done to the twin towers in the USA. Their abilities and military skills had taught them to be survivors, the ability to blend in and out and disappear like ghosts. General Gloven sighed wearily. He was already in his 50s and most of his energy and youthful strength had been spent during his young military days. Now before he could retire quietly in the countryside of his birth land, he had to hunt down what the Americans would name 'the freaks of nature'. That was the problem with scientists, always creating something without thinking of the consequences and it had to be someone else who had to clean up the mess that they caused. To the late president of Âme, may the Bon Dieu have mercy on his soul and prayed the remaining 4 scientists could be found so that they need not waste time on this cat and mouse game.

Another cloud of smoke floated about General Gloven's thick cracked lips. On the military's point of view, it was a dreadful shame that these creations could not be used for the benefit of the France's security system if there's a possibility…

At school, André Masson neatly packed his things into a bag and slings it around his shoulder. The first few days of being a teacher weren't so bad as described by the principle. The students were spontaneous and had a marvelous interest in English and Arts. His colleagues seemed to take a liking to him. That was good, he thought, walking down along the hallway. He paused, looked outside the window towards the field and saw the baseball team was having their routine evening practices. These teenagers were lucky to be able to enjoy their life and do all sorts of things that they seemed fit. André wondered what was it like to be a student in a normal school. He scrolled across the field till he saw someone sitting beneath the shades of the trees. He was resting his head upon his rolled up knees. Lying beside him was his textbooks. A label was pasted onto it. André softly read it, "Omi Tsukiyono …"

He turned around and saw Ms. Fujima walking to the nearest classroom. "Fujima-san," he ran up to her. "Excuse me…"

"Oh, Masson-san, how is your first few days of teaching? I hope that my students did not give you any problems."

"They are very fine students since they have an excellent form teacher. Just out of curiosity, may I know more about Omi Tsukiyono? He seemed to be very tired all the time."

"Omi Tsukiyono?" Ms Fujima's face gave a motherly impression. "Poor boy, it must be tiring on him to work and study at the same times. You see, his parents died when he was young and he has no relatives to look after him. Since then, he had to fend for himself. The teachers and I gave him some accommodations to ease his burden. Omi is very intelligent boy, Masson-san. I see that a bright future is ahead for him."

"Sou ka (I see)," André glanced thoughtfully at the window. He turned back and smiled politely. "Arigatou, Fujima-san."

While Omi was still in school, at the basement of the florist shop, Yoji, Ken and Aya stared at the computer screen very hard. Manx's red lips curled in slight amusement at their reaction. Ken rubbed his eyes for a moment and asked, "Did I see what I see or was that my imagination?"

"This footage is real, isn't it, Manx?" Yoji ruffled up his hair, "It's very creepy like those horror movies."

"It should be," said Aya slowly, "That's what Sakimoto said in his journal. The description of the little girl is exactly the same, including the descriptions of his own actions."

"But how could someone removed something solid while it is being firmly placed on an arm?" Ken argued. "There's no way that the bangle could move through the arm like it doesn't existed."

"Sakimoto did try to touch her but his hand went passed her. Furthermore, he saw the bangle." Aya showed him a page of the journal. "Sounds insane but it actually happened."

"So, was the girl invisible or wasn't she?" Yoji sounded confused. 

"No," Manx replied. "She was visible but her body wasn't in a physically solid state. I saw the footage 30 times to come to that conclusion. And maybe whatever she touched causes it to lose their solid state."

"Don't tell me that her body went to a spiritual state or something, like a ghost." Yoji shuddered at the thought. "Man, this is getting to be a X-files episode. How did Âme actually create these 'genetically modified humans'? It sound so far fetched. In the future like year 4030, it would sound logical but in this century? I don't think so."

"Well, since General Beniamin Gloven have come all the way here from France, I guess that Âme was successful and probably was the first to do so." Ken shrugged his shoulders. "Like you said, the idea sounds so idealistic since the cloning of Dolly the sheep was made possible in 1995 or so."

"Maybe, there are many scientific discoveries that have been made in the 70's that were not made known because of selfish reasons," commented Aya. "Every country is fighting with each other to be the best so most likely they would want to keep their secrets in an extremely low profile."

"That is possible," Manx crossed her arms. "The General is very concerned about that issue. If made known, the USA would slam the non-ethical regulations & immorality trash onto France's face. The government took pains in covering up it up Sakimoto's article, claiming that Âme was never involved and the genetically plants and animals needed further testing before confirming its usage. The president, co-president and his wife were probably silenced while the other 5 fled for their lives. Jean Lobe was happened to be the unlucky one. Somehow, I have this feeling that the intruder that attacked you boys was sent by the General."

"Like every conspiracy, the military wants to finish off the remaining 5 so that they could have their findings and use them for their own," Yoji grinned. "Perhaps, the other 4 are alive because they accepted the offer to work for them but Jean Lobe refused and that would have signed his death contract."

"Very clever," Ken remarked. "For someone who spends most of daytime at the television and night time with women."

"At least I learn things from the television and enjoy myself at the same time," Yoji defended. "You should try it for a change."

"No thanks, I wouldn't want to get AIDS."

"Unless you wear protection, I could introduce some brands to you if you are willing to try it."

"Yoji!" Ken's face blushed with embarrassment

"As we were _saying_," Manx cleared her throat, "General Gloven believes strongly that one of Âme's creations may be living in Japan. And since this would be a needle in the haystack, we would have to wait till something pops out of the stack. Till then, be ready."

"Yes, Madam," Yoji jokingly saluted her. "Till then, time for me for my daily hours at the night clubs."

"You are really relaxed about contracting AIDS, aren't you?"

Omi awoke from his nap and realized that it was already evening. Rubbing his sleepy eyes and muttering to himself for napping for so long, Omi prepared to return to the florist shop where the rest would be expecting him to be back. Just then, he heard someone calling out his name. He turned and saw André running up to him.

"Masson-sensei…" 

André held out his hand, "You don't have to call me that since school is over. Just André will do." He pulled his bag higher over his shoulder. "I'm going to the _boulangerie_ to work. Are you heading the same direction as me?" 

"Un…" said Omi, feeling very awkward that a teacher being so causal towards his students. 

On the way, André decided to do the first move and started talking more about himself. André's Japanese mother died when he was born and his French father transferred his sorrows into his work and business, leaving André to boarding schools most of the time. As he grew older and more independent, André became weary of the stiff 'artistic' French culture and make a decision to live in Japan. The main intention was to find out more about his mother. However, the search for her family background was very difficult and André had feared that she could be disowned for marrying a foreigner. Nevertheless, André hoped that he would learn more about the Japanese culture since he had his mother's blood in him. Omi listened as much as he can but his thoughts dwelled on the painful discovery of his family background – the disowning by his father and his recent killing of his own brothers. Deep inside, he envied the less complex background that André has. 

"Ne, Omi, do you have any girls attached to you?" 

"Masson-sensei!!" Omi blurted out. His cheeks were burning. 

"Come on, a cute looking boy like you shouldn't find difficulty in finding girls." André looked at Omi and saw a shadow of sadness on his face although Omi tried to look straight ahead undistributed. Patting him encouragingly on the shoulder, André kept silent as the two men approached the florist shop. 

The door opened and a red haired woman dressed in red stepped out followed by a brown haired man, which André recognized him as Ken. 

"Thank you very much, please come back again," thanked Ken, bowing politely. Looking up, he saw Manx looking at something. He turned his head as well. "Oh… Omi and André-san." 

"Bonsoir (good evening)," greeted André. The red haired woman's eyes immediately set upon him. Omi sensed the alertness of Manx and André feeling very uncomfortable at the unwanted response. 

"Etto… André, this is Sakura-san, a regular customer of this shop. Sakura-san, this is André who works at the boulangerie just down the street." 

"Sou desu ka," answered Manx, played along. "Dozo Hajimemashita." 

"Dozo Hajimemashita," André replied. "Well then, I better get going before the boss fines me for being late. See you at school, Omi." 

Manx's eyes locked onto André till he disappeared inside the bakery shop. Omi, feeling unsure of what had happened, asked cautiously, "Manx, what's wrong?" 

"Oh nothing," Manx waved her hand in mid-air. "It's that I feel very insecure when there are so many foreigners popping out here," Clicking her tongue, "particularly the French." 

The moon lowered its rays upon the brightly glittered streets where the nightclubs dominated. These were the places where people from all walks of life come to drown their earthly burdens in heavy liquors as they refuge under the deafening notorious music. In a room at the second level, a couple was indulged themselves into the unrepentant delights of the flesh. Cries and moans of lust and ecstasy lined the 4 corners of the room steamed by sweat of passion from their naked bodies and their inner hunger elevated to the darkness of the night. Then, when the peak was reached and passed, the woman playfully placed herself on the back of her male companion.

"Yoji-san," She squeezed his body with her legs. "The experience was sensational." Bending down to his ears, "care to do it again."

"Not now, sweetie. I'm exhausted," Yoji murmured sleepy. "Ah .. ah… ah… not the neck…" He turned over, pushing her aside. "You are quite a kitten, aren't you?"

"Why not?" She pulled him closer to her, "You are like a famished lion yourself. You are not satisfied with just only once."

"Really?" He growled, sinking his teeth onto her soft part of her neck. "Then, you have to try to fill me." She giggled and eagerly wrapped her legs around him. 

A few hours later, Yoji buckled up his pants, slipped into a shirt and a jacket and left the room where his kitten laid quietly underneath the covers. He held out his arm and looked at his wristwatch. It was 3 in the morning yet the night was still young for the night lovers. Heading towards the bar counter, Yoji ordered a martini. While waiting, he leaned lazily and watched the showgirls dancing. If there were ever a religious puritan in this place, he would have condemned everybody to eternal hell. But to Yoji, those girls were trying to earn a living and the people like him were trying to get life to pass them as quickly as possible. It wasn't like they didn't have a life but it was the need to be away from the cold harsh reality that daily whipped the life out of them.

Chewing onto the olive from his martini, Yoji's sharp eyes caught someone familiar dressed in glossy purple shirt and midnight black pants. His shoulder-length raven hair tied in mini plaits, seaweed green eyes and features like a Eurasian. He frowned as his mind was tracking the name that would fit that description. The stranger turned towards the staircase, his face was half revealed. Yoji's eyebrows were raised in recognition. _André Masson!_ Finishing his martini, Yoji walked briskly up the stairs. Well well well, who would have thought that the half French, half Japanese baker would be in a place like this? Wait till he tells the others of his findings.

Yoji spotted André entering into one of the rooms, treading like a mouse towards the door and about to knock onto it when he heard André's slightly displeased voice. It sounded rather unpleasant.

"What are you doing _here_?"

"Like I have always been doing, looking out for you," answered a deeper raspy voice. "It's my duty as your frère."

"I don't need you to look after me. I can take care of myself."

"Oh really? Seems to me that you have forgotten about certain things and become soften in the process. Is it that being a local baker and part-time teacher that has made you to forget what you should have always remember inside that brain of yours?"

"I haven't forgotten about _it_." A moment of bitter silence passed. "Now, why are you here?"

"Qui-vous-savez (you-know-who) is here."

"Impossible! When?"

"Recently, I discovered it from Jean Lobe's files. He's here. They know my location."

"Then, why are you here? You should be leaving now."

"I wanted to but I have to warn you first."

"Should I thank you?"

"Doesn't matter if you don't, they will be after you once they know that you are here."

"As long as I don't get myself into trouble deliberately."

"You have. By mingling yourself with these people, you already have. You have given yourself out."

"And what right do you have to judge me?"

"You must remember. These people are with them. They will never accept us. They will gladly send us back there."

"That's being prejudice!"

"Really? Have you ever try telling them about how were you made? That you weren't created naturally like they are. Do you think that they will still have the same opinion about you after the truth is revealed?"

"Se taire! (Shut up!)" André's voice went higher.

"Do you really think that you could be one of them? To be able to experience the life that they have? You know that you never will."

"Se taire! (Shut up!)" Yoji could imagine André covering his ears.

"Sure you could but you be just watching them from afar. They will be like the figures in the movie, passing by. You'll just scratch the surface but never touching what they have, what they feel. Listen up kid. You will be never, and I say that again, never be part of them."

"Se taire! Se taire! Se taire!" A heavy thud fell onto the floor.

The stranger gasped and coughed. Then, he gave an eerie laughter.

"Tres bien. (Very good). Looks like you still have the fighter spirit in you." The sound of boots pounding forward. "As I have said earlier, I'm your frère, neuf-trois-sept-neuf, I'll look after you." He gave a deep sigh. "Comme toujours, tu es beaux." 

Yoji bit his lip in annoyance because he couldn't understand a single word that they were saying. Darn the French! At least, he did manage to hear one very important name – Jean Lobe. How did that stranger know about him and what was his connection with André? And why was everything so quiet? What could they be doing? Yoji had a sudden awful feeling of what they could be doing. Holding his breath, he slides down the staircase, out of the nightclub and straight for his car. Breathing out, Yoji turned on the engine and rode out into the main road. Things seemed to be tensed back there and it was a damn waste that he couldn't understand anything. He wished that Aya was here to overhear their conversation. That if he could drag him here. Then, he saw something at the car window screen. It was something running behind. He turned around and to his horror or shock; it was a black leather-suited person with the tribal witchdoctor's mask.

**_It's him!_**

Turning back, Yoji stepped on the accelerator.

_How could he be so stupid and so deaf? _

_That was him in the room with André! _

_How could anyone run so fast? _

_Could he be one of the creations that Âme had created? _

He turned back and like he strongly expected, the tribal masked intruder was gone.

_DAMN IT!!! _

Knowing that fleeing is not the best option, Yoji swirled his car to a bend of the highway road. The car's tires gave a screeching stop. The door clicked open and Yoji stepped out, armed with his usual weapon and an additional revolver. Since one wasn't sure what he's up against the creations of Âme, its better to take extra precaution. Depending heavily on his night vision and the assassin instincts, Yoji's breathing patterns didn't make much improvement. Beads of sweat trickled down his face. He hated the compressing silence of the surroundings. Both his heart and mind were conveying the same message of inner fear. 

_Like a predator hunting the prey… _

Just then, Yoji spotted a shadow peeping behind a lamppost. He fired. Cracking of glass and gunpowder smell covered the area. Cursing to himself for giving away his position and damaging the lamppost, which had added in more darkness to the night already. With his back leaning to the car, he slid his hand into his pocket and pressed the buttons of his handphone. Swiftly, he threw his sunglasses onto the ground, his jacket to over the fence of the highway road. Grinning devilishly, he shouted out boldly. 

"Why don't you come out and show yourself? Aren't we all too old to play the childish game of hide-and-seek? Why don't we fight one on one like real men?" 

The intruder with the tribal witch doctor's mask emerged out from the coverings of the dark and walked onto the dim lights provided from the headlights of Yoji's car.

"I must give credit to your willing to meet the Bon Dieu. Most people that I had met are trembled like babies before they passed away. The ironic thing is that if you had minded your own business, this wouldn't have happened to you. Yet, due to circumstances, you have to go. If not, your presence will indeed jeopardize my siblings' existence." 

"Why don't we save the formality and get on with what both of us are intending to do?" 

"As… 

You… 

Wish…" 

The alarm clock rang at precisely 7 o'clock. A sleeping figure well wrapped in the blankets drowsily reached out his hand and fumbled to hit the top button of the clock. Strands of red hair poked out from the covers and slowly out came the manly figures of Aya. Bending down to the floor where his crumpled T-shirt laid, he picked it up, flagged it a little before wearing. He looked at the door of his bedroom. A soft knock was heard and the door creaked open. An elderly woman with motherly warmness entered and said. 

"Ohayō (good morning), Ran. Get dressed, it's time to go to school with your sister, Aya…" 

The beeping sound of the alarm clock penetrated into Aya's ears and awoke him. Aya get straight up and felt the cool air upon his bare skin. Bending down to the floor where his crumpled T-shirt laid, he picked it up, flagged it a little before wearing. His eyes looked at the door of his bedroom. The clock ticked the few minutes of empty silence but nothing happened. Aya said nothing and walked towards the dressing table. Pulling out a drawer, he took out a faded family photo that was brunt around the edges. He fingered the faces of those in the photo. 

"Ohayō otōsan (father), okāsan…" His finger went to little girl with plaited hair. "Aya…" 

Aya proceeded to the kitchen, where he made himself a cup of hot cocoa and some toast. While chewing on his buttered toast, he read Omi's note pasted on the refrigerator's notice board. It was nothing much except he would be late due to extra-curriculum activities. Washing his toast down with the cocoa, he walked along the hallway where the sleepy Ken greeted him. 

"Ohayō, Aya." Ken gave a loud yawn. 

"Ohayō, Ken. Where's Yoji?" 

"Probably still sleeping, you know him with his daily night exercises, he will sleep all the way through morning. No point trying to wake him up." Ken yawned again. "Sorry, I think I need my coffee." 

"The water has been already boiled." 

"Thanks." 

Knocking onto the door, he waited for some form of a reply, at least a grumpy ramble or something. Strangely, there was no answer. Aya placed his hand onto the doorknob and turned. The door obediently opened widely. The bed was neatly tucked in; the chairs, tables, radio, CDs and DVDs were all placed tidily. Aya was rather half-surprised, usually Yoji would return home before dawn. He hardly stayed overnight unless there was a mission, which involved seducing women (a specialty of Yoji's) or some other reasons to give an excuse not to work at the florist. He decided to choose the latter reason. Upon leaving the room, he saw a blinking green light on the telephone. Walking towards it, he saw the screen displaying the word 'message'. Time: 4.38a.m. Probably, his female companion was mad at him for leaving the room instead of being with her till morning. 

Feeling a tempting urge of curiosity of how her reaction would be like, he gingerly pressed the 'play' button. The screen changed, displaying. 

CYCLAMEN – KIKAI HIGHWAY 

"Cyclamen…." With realization, Aya instantly picked up the receiver and dialed a number. 

"Manx, it's me, Aya. Yoji is in danger. Last location is at…" 

André Masson splashed icy cold water onto his face from the basin. He gave out a frustrated sigh. Why did _he _have to appear when he had just managed to settle down? It wasn't fair to him… What right did he have to be the thorn of his life? 

_Really? Have you ever try telling them about how were you made? That you weren't created naturally like they are. Do you think that they will still have the same opinion about you after the truth is revealed?_

"I can't tell them… I know I can't…" 

_Do you really think that you could be one of them? To be able to experience the life that they have? You know that you never will. _

"I could if I try hard enough… I could…" 

_Sure you could but you be just watching them from afar. They will be like the figures in the movie, passing by. You'll just scratch the surface but never touching what they have, what they feel. Listen up kid. You will be never, and I say that again, never be part of them. _

"That's a lie…. That's a lie…" André sank to the floor, his arms clutching tightly around him. "That's a lie…"

_I'm your frère, neuf-trois-sept-neuf, I'll look after you…. _

André watched him taking off his mask, showing his ruff red hair and the devilishly twinkle in his blue eyes. A thin stream of blood dripped down the unshaved chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. He smiled like he enjoyed the taste of blood in his mouth. Walking forward, he placed both palms on André's face; his fingers fingered the smooth curves of the Eurasian features. 

_Comme toujours, tu es beaux…_

André could remember him bending his head and shoving his tongue into his mouth. He remembered resisting him but Frère was much stronger than him. With little effort, he was pushed onto the floor. Frère forcefully kissed again and again, not allowing one moment for André to catch his breath. His fingers artlessly unbuttoned the first one, then at the second. He swiftly pinned both his wrists with one hand while the other unbuttoned the rest and fondled his chest.

_Comme toujours, tu es beaux…_

Then, for no reason, Frère stopped and turned his attention at the door. His fingers pressed against his own lips. André remembered hearing the footsteps of someone walking down the staircase in a slow and unsteady way. Frère got up, put on his tribal mask and roughly told him to leave and lay low for a few days. Within seconds, he was gone like he had always been doing. Appearing in and out of André's life as and when he pleased.

_Comme toujours, tu es beaux…_

When he's away, André felt the peace and the security that he needed so badly. The sense of belonging somewhere without having the fear of being found out. Now, Frère was like the throwing stone in the still pond, causing ripples to spread out, tearing up every flow of his life. Every time, he found a haven, Frère would be the one to shatter it to pieces.

_Neuf-trois-sept-neuf… _

"No, I'm not neuf-trois-sept-neuf. I'm André Masson…" 

_Neuf-trois-sept-neuf…_

_You must remember. These people are with them. They will never accept us. They will gladly send us back there _

_Neuf-trois-sept-neuf…_

_Neuf-trois-sept-neuf… _ _Neuf-trois-sept-neuf…_

"NO!! I'M ANDRÉ MASSON!!!" 

He screamed, smashing his fist into a wall mirror. The broken pieces of glass dropped to the ground, shattering into finer bits smeared with blood. Light from the ceiling reflected its rays upon the remaining segments of glass that survived the fall. All of them were reflecting André's fragment images bursting into tears of torment and loneliness. 

**_ À Suivre _**


	5. Enchaîné Chapitre 4 Se Soucier fleur d...

Enchaîné - Chapitre 4 

Se Soucier; fleur de cruauté… 

At the light of dawn, a car drove up at the Kikai Highway. It did not stop till it saw a green car parking at the bend of the highway. Without delay, the car speeded and parked sharply beside it. Ken and Aya leaped out of the car and began to scope the area; Ken was left to examine the damaged car while Aya searched for Yoji if he was still alive. 

Ken walked around the green car, which was in a total wreck. Dark blackish veins covered the polished green surface like a disease, the tires lifelessly spread out on the road. The left sides of the car were dented in a peculiar pattern and the car screen smashed. Walking around the car, Ken felt something crushing beneath the soles of his boots. Placing his foot aside, he saw a familiar pair of sunglasses. 

Fear gripped Ken in the throat… 

Aya need not spend much time in deciding where Yoji could be. The blood trails had already given him the answer, coming in tiny ovals, spatters and wavy lines varying in thickness. It was plainly seen who was the winner. As much as Aya tried to push back the dreadful feeling into the back of his mind, it kept on resurfacing. His eyes followed the blood trails to a nearby lamppost. 

To where a puddle lay and droplets of blood were falling from above… 

Like flipping a page of a book, Ken and Aya found themselves in a room where Manx ordered them to wait while she talked to the doctors who had finished operating on Yoji. In silent rage, Ken clutched the pair of sunglasses tightly in his fist. Aya could also imagine the curses that were accumulating in Ken's mind. Like him, he too felt the need for payback. Whoever savagely attacked Yoji and left him hanging dead had no idea who he was dealing with. The first suspect that Aya had in the mind was the intruder who took Jean Lobe's life. Maybe, Yoji had found him incidentally or the vice versa. 

_"The electric charge is set to stun mode. The health status of your comrades will not be affected. Let this be the first and last time we see each other." _

So much for saying that… 

Aya followed the blood trails to the near to a nearby lamp. He saw a red puddle and blood was dripping from above. Lifting his head up, he saw a sight that made him sick in the stomach. Hanging upside down was Yoji; a thin sliver thread shimmered in the sunlight as it wrapped around Yoji's bruised and battered body like a cocoon. Though speechless, Aya's body automatically drew out his katana and threw it straight at the attaching thread connecting to the lamppost. Swiftly, he caught the lifeless Yoji in his arms and set to release him from the thread bondage. He placed his fingers on Yoji's cold neck for a pause, thankfully, there was… 

"Aya… Aya…" 

"Huh?" Aya snapped out of his thoughts and turned to Ken. '"What?" 

"The one who did this to Yoji, I think it's the same guy who killed Jean Lobe." 

"Yeah, it should be…" 

"And that thing is one of Âme's creations." 

"Yeah, I suppose it is. From the way he hanged Yoji from the lamppost, it's impossible for a normal human to jump that high" 

"The dents I found on the car door…" Ken held out his fist. "The shapes are like the knuckles of a human fist. I also found Yoji's revolver, his jacket and his handphone that self destructed after the he sent the message." 

Aya reached out and touched Ken's shoulder as he watched his friend swallowed in his emotions deeply. "Yoji is going to make it. Manx has got the best doctors for him." 

"Even so, Yoji knew that he might not live. That's why he sent the CYCLAMEN message." 

"But he's going to make it." 

"Still, but what is his condition going to be like?" 

"That, I don't know…" Aya looked out at the four walls of the rooms. "But Yoji is going to live that's all it matters. Meanwhile, that bastard is going to get it from all of us." 

"Aya…" Ken looked up. 

"Yes, Ken?" Aya looked into his friend's brown eyes. 

"What exactly are we dealing with?" 

"Âme's genetically modified human beings, I'm afraid." 

Ken grunted, "then our chances of beating are very slim." 

"Maybe," Aya's lips twisted at a corner. "Those so-called superior beings may have a weakness like those in the TV." 

Ken laughed softly. "Maybe…" 

The door opened and red-haired Manx entered. She looked very relieved and very tired. 

"Good news, the doctors said that Yoji is going to make it. I have placed him under a secure hospital ward till he recovers properly. His main injuries are factures around the rib cages, bruises on the stomach, chest and the neck, excessive bleeding from the cuts everywhere on his body including the back. The doctors had trouble taking out all those tiny glass pieces on his back." Taking in a deep breathe. "So, instead of waiting for the forensic reports, I say that the 3 of us analyze the past events first. I have already contracted Omi, he should be on his way now." 

During recess time, André Masson sat quietly on his desk, staring out of the window like a stoned person, tapping his red pen onto the pile of essays that required the immediate attention of grading and correction. André wasn't in the mood for paperwork. He was pondering on the next move that ever-devoted Frère might be doing. It wasn't going to be easy since nobody in the world could see through the mind of Frère. The description of Frère was literally a duplicate of the television's stereo portray of serial killers - an appearance so common and manners so normal that nobody would suspect anything. Yet, that profile was what _they_ wanted. 

"Masson-san… Masson-san…" 

"Umm?" André drifted his attention to a boy standing before him. His hair was light brown and eyes so sweet and innocent. "… Oh! Omi." André sat up and straighten his shoulders. "What can I do for you?" 

"Masson-san," Omi began. "I have to leave school in an hour or so due an emergency so, I won't be able to attend your English lessons today." 

"Daijoubu. Just read up on lesson 16 today and do all the exercises. If you need any help, you can approach me any time." 

"Arigatou gozaimashita," thanked Omi, bowing. His eyes blinked. "Masson-san, your left hand…" 

"Oh that..." André touched his bandaged hand. "I was careless when I was preparing something last night. It's not serious… ah… you better hurry since you have urgent matters to attend to." He looked at the pile of essays on his desk. "As for me, I have to finish marking all these before the end of the day. Otherwise, I won't be able to go through them with your class before the exams arrive." 

"Dewa (then), sayonara." Omi bowed politely and left. 

André flipped the essays with his finger and mentally counted them. _40 in all… mmm… nothing that André Masson can handle… right now, mark those essays. You are a teacher. A normal English teacher in a normal school in a normal country…_ A disturbing purple card stood out from the white scribbled sheets. André took it and turned the card over. It read: 

Le parking – F 

André stood up and looked through the window. Hiding behind some trees at the car park area, was someone. Feeling very irritated, André cursed under his breath and calmly proceeds to the area. Within minutes, a clean shaved blue-eyed man with a cap and an oversized jacket leaning against a tree, waiting for him. 

Frère 

"What the hell are you doing here?" hissed André, his black hair flipped to one side in anger. 

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Frère replied in amusement. "You should be leaving this place." 

"And why may I ask?" 

Frère cautiously kept on his eyes on a lookout. "Because they have a lock on you." 

"What!" André glared. "Is this some kind of a plot to get me to follow you? If it is, then forget it!" 

"Remember the four florists a few shops away from you?" 

"Yes, why? What do they have to do it?" 

"Their main occupations are not florists. Its their cover-up." 

André was taken back but recovered quickly. "And you expect me to believe you?" 

"You should. I met one of them last night. He was spying on us during our brief moment of reunion. I think you are able to recognize him. Blond hair, the one with sunglasses…" 

"Yoji…" André gasped. "What have you done with him?" 

Frère smirked. "I send him my regards. Listen, neuf-trois-sept-neuf…" 

"André…" 

"Listen, _André_…" Deliberately stretching the name a bit longer. "I met them when I was paying a visit to Jean Lobe. They were there, all of them. Including the one who is currently your student, Omi Tsukiyono… am I right?" Watching André's eyes widen. "Do you know that his job is?" His lips widen like a genius that knew everything. An assassin… that's right, André. That teenager is an assassin. And so are his three companions. Their job was to eliminate Jean Lobe so that they could gain assess to the information of our whereabouts." 

"Omi… an assassin? That's crazy… it doesn't make sense…" 

"Nothing makes sense… we began assassinating people since we were children." 

"Then, they have already known about Âme…" 

"And us…" Frère bent closer to André's ear. "You know what that mean… he has to die including the others." 

"What…" André's voice became faint. "Kill Omi…" 

"Kill him to save us. Kill him to save us from them. Otherwise, what we have done 10 years ago, what our brothers and sisters have died for, would be all for nothing." 

"But..." 

"You are a great survivor. Use your skills to survive." 

"I can't…" 

"We are diabolic creatures of the damned and anything that is unholy. An abomination to nature. We can't afford to feel. If we do, Âme will finish us off. Which would you prefer, termination by Âme or being used like a puppet for the Japanese?" 

"Kill Omi… why? He's just a child." 

"It's survival…" Frère savored the sentence like a juicy piece of meat; his blue eyes caught André's bandaged hand. "What is this? He held it in his gloved hands. "My poor little brother…" His voice softened. "You have suffered so much." 

André was in a daze like a stoned zombie, his heart stabbed a thousand times for a thousand lifetimes. He felt Frère kissing his bandaged hand. He didn't care. Nothing does, anymore… 

"Don't be sad, neuf-trois-sept-neuf," said Frère, holding out his finger. "You won't be alone to do this, I will help you as always…" 

A tear fell nicely on the tip of Frère's index finger. 

And he ate it. 

Instantly, André backed away from him, his voice hissing like hot iron in cold water. 

"Get away from me!" 

Frère simply leaned against the tree truck and smirked, as he watched the frightened André running back into the school. Sinister thoughts darkened the baby-blue eyes. 

"Somehow, I have this feeling that the General is not completely honest about the whole…" said Manx, curling her red hair in irritation. Just then, Omi burst into the room. He stood there, his hands on his knees, panting nonstop as he tried to say the words that everybody guessed that he would say. 

"Yoji is alright, Omi," said Ken, walking towards him and patted him on the back. "Take it easy. Catch your breath, first. My goodness! You are sweating. Did you run all the way here from school?" 

"Sort of…" Omi gulped in air. "Is he injured badly?" 

"Nothing that he can take. Do you want to see him? He's sleeping though." 

"May I?" 

"Of course, you can," nodded Manx. "He's partially wrapped up like a mummy, I warn you first." 

"I bring him," volunteered Ken as he led Omi out of the room. 

"As I was saying earlier," Manx flipped her red hair to one side. "I have this feeling that the General is not completely honest about the whole thing. Though he kept on saying that his mission is to eliminate the genetic modified human beings, he may want to use them for military purposes. Since they already have the technology, they could reduce their thinking capability to only accept orders." 

"Somehow I have this gut feeling that the journal of Sakamoto might not be a genuine. On the 27th August 1989, he decided to investigate and managed to publish an article on the 24th October 1989 in France. A reporter like him with no influential connections couldn't be able accomplish it within 2 months." Aya showed her the journal. "Furthermore, this is the end of the journal." 

"What!" Manx took the journal and examined the end cover. "Could the remaining pages be ripped off? Doesn't seem to be with the naked eye. Maybe, if we could get a sample of Sakamoto's works, we could establish whether the handwriting is his or not." 

"If the handwriting is truly Sakamoto's, then how was he able to find evidence strong enough to bring down Âme? Unless he had help from Jean Lobe…" His eyes shifted. "Or maybe someone else that we don't know yet…. Like one of the 3 scientists that the General is after." 

"We don't have time to look for either one of them," Manx pondered. "Then, we will have to backwards from the nightclub that Yoji was in to the place where we found him. Being a pop-u-lar customer there, maybe, the manager could tell us a thing or two." She held out her handphone and tossed Aya a bunch of keys. "I'll inform Ken and Omi. You get the car ready." 

The unconscious Yoji was laid in a private hospital room guarded by 2 security officers. He was bandaged around the chest, arms, legs and the neck. Two tubes from two hanging pouches were inserted into his veins – one red and one transparent. An air mask was placed over his face. Next to him was a machine, monitoring his every breathing and heartbeat. Omi sat on the chair and watched him sleeping like a dead person. His fist clenched at the immediate thoughts of avenging him. 

"Are you sure that the one who did this to him was of those genetically modified human beings that Âme created?" 

"Yes, Omi," replied Ken. "The attacker only used very basic martial art techniques. We estimated the speed and strength and the results proved that only a genetically modified human being is capable. No normal human being is capable of that." 

"But how did he find Yoji? He said that he hoped that he would see us for the last time." 

"People can change their mind as easily as clicking their fingers. Maybe, when he saw Yoji, he decided to finish him off before Yoji could recognize him." 

" I suppose so," Omi held Yoji's hand gently. "What do you mean by the attacker only used very basic martial art techniques? What kind of marital arts did he use? Judo? Karate? Taekwondo?" 

"We concluded that the attacker used taekwondo. But most marital arts have the same basic foundations for each move. The attacker is focused on his arms rather than his legs. Like punching for example, when you strike, you always make sure that you strike with the first two knuckles of the fist," Ken pointed to the knuckles of the index and middle finger. "It is because they are the sturdiest and least likely to fracture. Then, with your wrist straight and fist tight and 2 knuckles in front, the blow will give its maximum impact and the minimum risk of injuring your hands and wrist. How we were able to determine that was due to fist blows that we found on the doors of the car. There were 2 distinct knuckles marks. Seemed like the attacker is a left-handed person or likes to use his left hand." 

"The left hand," repeated Omi. "Sounds familiar…" 

"Familiar? Why?" 

"Ah… I'm not sure… mmm… was the attacker a different person?" 

"The physical build of the attacker seems to match the same attacker who killed Jean Lobe as the power of the punch depends on the body weight of a person. The more the body weight is transferred from shoulders into the blow the impact will be higher. Besides having muscles, how skilled the person also influence the impact of the punch, when giving multiple punches, you have to concentrate on the speed, linearity of the footing, rotation of the shoulders and relaxation of the upper body. Speed from the legs helps too as it also generates power to the blow." 

"But Yoji is also skilled at punching techniques. Surely, he could have given back a punch or two." 

"Even so, the attacker could have used the jab punch technique. Considering his speed and agility, the jab punch could serve as an effective attacking strategy as it combines boxing, self-defense and sparring." 

"What do you mean?" 

"When giving a punch, we have to keep the elbow down as there is tendency to raise it. This will slow down the jab punch and make it vulnerable to a counterattack. When the punch is extended," Ken demonstrated. "The chin is tucked down to the shoulder while the rear hand is closed to the chin as a protection against counterattack for that side of the face." He pointed to his left side of the face. "And the chin is always down because if we don't, it will give a clear target for our opponents for a counterattack. So, the chin has to be down and head inclined forward." 

"So, in other words, Yoji didn't stand a single chance in fighting back. He was literally a punching bag for him. All he could do was to hang on as long as he could." 

"Afraid so." 

"And the speed enables him to be light on his feet which makes his punch even more effective." 

"Correct. This high level of the attacker's abilities shows that he was trained severely. A possible training center would be no other than the military camp." 

"But what was the purpose of beating Yoji up? A warning sigh to mind our business?" 

"Perhaps, or something worse. Maybe, he knows that we are working align with General Gloven though he doesn't know it yet. But his initial thoughts were to kill Yoji. By strangling with only hand." 

"Is that possible?" 

"With that amount of strength, it will be nothing to him. Aya found a bruise mark shaped like a index finger with a thumb." Ken demonstrated again. "It's called the throat strike. Its design to deliver a quick shock to the opponent's trachea by extending the thumb and partially curling the fingers like you would when holding a can. With precise timing and quick thrust to the throat, the victim is at his disposal." 

"And Yoji is not the only victim," Omi turned, his face stiffened. "So, what do we do?" 

"For now, Manx and Aya are trying to unravel the General's real intentions." The handphone rang. "Hold on a minute… Yup? Manx? Ah… ok… mmm… ok… bye." Ken looked at Omi. "That was Manx. She said that she and Aya are driving down to the pub where Yoji was last night to find some clues. For us, we have to watch over Yoji just in case he gained conscious." 

"Looking at his injuries, he won't be awake for the next few days," Omi looking slightly dismayed. "Till then, we won't know much and the attacker may be fleeing to some other place." 

"I won't bet on it. Manx and Aya will find something. As for Yoji," Ken grinned encouragingly. "He's tough. He won't let a thing beat him down." 

Under the noon sun, Manx and Aya drove down to the streets where nightclubs usually dominated. The nightclubs seemed to quiet and lifeless under the heat of the sun. Stray cats yawned and stretched their limbs as they remained in the cool shade of the alleys. Without delay, Manx and Aya entered into one of the nightclubs. Being with Yoji for a long time, it was his most favourite. The dance floor and the pub areas were emptied except for a few workers mopping the floor. Manx and Aya proceed to ask the bartender, who wiping some empty beer mugs with a white cloth. The bartender peered up as he saw the two red heads approaching him. 

"Sorry, people. This establishment is closed. You have to come at around 6 or so." 

"We are not here for a drink," Manx sat on of the chairs. Aya stood behind her. "We just want to know if you know this person." She showed a photo of Yoji. 

"Him? Who wants to know?" The bartender asked nonchalantly. "There are lots of people like him." 

Manx placed a crispy dollar note into a squeaky-clean beer mug. The bartender's eyebrows raised, his lips pursed. Looking around, he took a note and cleaned the mug. "He was here last night, wanting to have a good time with one of our girls. A nice guy, you know, always giving tips." 

"What did he do?" 

"He was in one of the rooms with one of our girls. Then, he came down here to have a drink at around 3 in the morning. Later, he went upstairs for a short while, came down and left. That was around half an hour later." 

"Was he followed by anyone suspicious? Or did anyone caught his attention?" 

"The girls here always catch his attention… I don't know, I just work…" Manx held out another dollar note. "He was drinking martini and then, he followed someone. A Eurasian in purple shirt, black pants with mini plaited hair and green eyes… I think. Not very sure as it was difficult to see the colour of his eyes because there are coloured contact lenses available nowadays but he is purely a Eurasian." 

"So, this Eurasian was seeing someone?" 

"Look lady, everybody is seeing somebody and I can't keep track of all of them…." 

"Did you have any foreigners lately?" Manx interrupted. "Europeans for example?" 

"Err… Excuse me for a moment?" The bartender yelled out a name. "Rosé!! You are wanted here!!!" 

A woman appeared from behind, skimpily dressed in her robe and messy locks of greenish blue hair tumbled all over her face. In a saucy and yet irritated voice, she replied. 

"What the hell do you want?" 

"Rosé. Who's the foreigner that you were complaining about last night?" 

"Him?" She spat. "Like all foreigners, a total snob. They think that they know everything with their French accent!" 

"French?" Manx asked. Her ears perked up. "How did he look like?' 

"Medium built, red-orangey hair, blue eyes, deep raspy voice, long nose, square jaw, eyebrows almost knitting together…" She clicked her tongue. "I think that French fag is at the wrong place." 

"Fag?" 

"He doesn't have any interest in women. Except for his fag lover, another Eurasian, a pretty boy though. Raven black hair in mini plaits. Feminine features. Green eyes… think that his name was André or something…" Aya and Manx immediately exchanged looks. Rosé spot the photo of Yoji lying on the countertop. Immediately, she let out an eerie and spiteful yell. 

"Satin!!! Seems like your lover boy has shown his true colour!!!" 

"What!!!" Another equally skimpily dressed woman appeared, except for her pony-tailed blonde hair. "What the heck are you talking about?" 

"See?" Rosé gleefully waved the photo in front of her. "Your Yoji boy dumped you last night because he had someone else. Seems like you are losing your touch." She laughed, her hand half covering her mouth. "That woman could be his new lover or maybe his wife!" She laughed again. 

Satin glared at Rosé and shifted her eyes on Manx. Slamming her hand onto the counter, she asked hostility. "Who the ******* hell are you?" 

"Just a friend of Yoji's. You must the famous Satin." Manx adapting the flattering approach. "Yoji spoke nothing else but the best of you." 

"Well," Satin flipped her hair haughtily. "Of course, I'm the best. There is no woman who could satisfy Yoji the way that I could. What's your business with him?" 

"Just something between him and the both of us. We haven't met him for a long time and Yoji is always so busy in his work and hardly have time to socialize. We are so glad that he has someone like you to keep him accompany." Manx smiled. Aya nodded his head. 

"I bet you do." 

"I can assure you that I have no intimate interests with Yoji," Manx stood up, wrapped her arms around Aya's neck and rested her head onto Aya's chest. "You see. I already have a partner." 

Aya dumbly complied by placing his hands around her waist. 

General Benjamin Gloven sat down on his desk and activated his computer. The screen was blank for a few seconds before a figure dressed in a lab coat, appeared on the screen. In French, he spoke.

"Our research on what you have requested is completed. General." 

"And the results, doctor?" 

"We analyzed the blood samples of the 3 remaining Âme children and discovered why they are able to do so during the 1989 shutdown. 80% of their DNA are purely human DNA that were able to adapt to the 20% mutated GBG and modified as they were growing. Since they reached 10 years of age, the DNA structure would have been stabilized and at their maximum potential." 

"Interesting. But weren't the all the 10 000 children have purely human DNA and yet 50% died before 8, followed by 30% more at 10, before reducing drastically to 3 at the 1989 shutdown." 

"Yes, sir. We have analyzed that we have come to the same conclusion with substantial results. The 3 Âme children had something that other 9997children didn't have. They were of mixed blood. Subject 9374 is African & French, 9377 – French & Dutch and lastly, 9379 – French & Japanese. The information was based on the reports of the late Âme president." 

"So, somehow, when these mixed racial DNA get together, they create some form of resistance and adaptation to the mutated GBG. As time passes, they both integrated as one?" 

"That's correct, General." 

"Fantastic…" General Gloven rubbed his chin. "Have you received anything about the 4 missing Âme scientists?" 

"They are all dead except for one - Fideline Josette. The Chasser team had reported that the Âme children were responsible for their deaths." 

"And the data?" 

"The Âme children had them. All they need is Fideline Josette's and they are complete." 

"Thank you, doctor. That will be all." 

He clicked the mouse and the screen went blank. Tapping his fingers for a moment, he then picked up a phone and said, "Get the my private plane ready. I'm returning to France within 2 hours. There is an old friend whom I have to meet." Placing down the receiver, "An old friend who would be willing to help." 

"What do you know about this André person?" asked Manx, looking ahead at the road. "Does he have any involvement with Yoji's attacker?" 

"He's a baker and a temporarily teacher at Omi's school. He has been in the area for a while. Rather quiet and hardworking. Involvement? Maybe considering that all of this happened when he appeared." 

"Then, he better be cooperative." 

Aya parked the car along the roadside. "We are here." 

Manx stepped out and looked at the bakery shop. "Closed on a day like this. How convenient. Let's take a look inside, shall we?" Aya took out a card and slit it between the locks. The door opened and Manx and Aya entered and examined the place. The kitchen was neat and tidy with all of its utensils placed into the cupboards. On the white table was a marble tile with a stalk of flower placed on it. The flower's numerous petals were steaked with yellow, red and orange, complimenting with the green stalk and its leaves. 

Aya sniffed at the scent and murmured, "Marigold…" 

"There is a card next to it," Manx picked it and read. "It's all in French." Passing it to him, "Read what it…" 

Aya held out his hand and mouthed, "Hear something?" 

Manx kept silent and crammed her ears to hear something against the still atmosphere. Slowly and gradually, she heard a familiar and rhythmic ticking sound coming from one of the cupboards. 

Without hesitation, both Manx and Aya ran out of the bakery shop and drew themselves behind their car. A thunderous explosion came, showering them with glass, bits of concrete and other debris. Manx and Aya coughed heavily at the dust clouds and smoke. Their faces were partly seared with dirt. Aya looked down and uncurled his fingers. A crumple piece of paper was lying on his palm. 

Smoothing it out, he read, "Se Soucier; fleur de cruauté." 

"What?" Manx dug into her pockets and took out her handphone. "What did the note say? In Japanese, please!" 

"Marigold, flower of cruelty." 

**_ À Suivre _**


	6. Enchaîné Chapitre 5 Hell exists nowher...

Enchaîné - Chapitre 5

_Hell exists nowhere but within ourselves … _

André walked along the streets rather sluggishly, considering the implications of what Frère had said to him. The thought of him leaving was unbearable and weary. How long did he have to continue this wandering life, spending days and nights knowing that Âme would come for him, capture him and condemned him to the life of a lab rat. All he ever wanted was to live an ordinary and peaceful life. Was that completely too much to ask for? Suddenly, an earth-shaking explosion broke through his thoughts. Looking up, he saw smoke curling up in the sky. 

"Marigold, the flower of cruelty…" Manx repeated, "How poetic! Hello… hello… Ken! Are you there? Ken… Damn! The phone is dead!" Examining it carefully. "I must have damaged it during the explosion." Manx stood up and scanned the area to see if the bomber was still around the premises. Then, she saw someone in black with a tribal-like mask on his face, standing on the rooftop of an 8-storey building. The masked man gave a jaunty wave and jumped all the way down, landing lightly upon the concrete ground. Both Manx and Aya were stunned at the masked man didn't break a single bone after falling from such a height. Aya said nothing as he drew out his sword.

Leaping forward, the masked man kicked Manx aside, making her crashed into the rubbish bins. Wheeling around, he punched Aya in the midsection, took his sword and flung it away where it skidded and clattered against a wall. Then, he reached out and took Aya by his shirt front, dragged him forward and head butt. The blow snapped Aya backward, leaving him blinded and stunned. Lifting Aya up, he held him suspended in the air and threw him down, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

"You should have heeded my words," He said coolly, walking to where Aya laid gasping and bleeding. "Unfortunately, you and your comrades don't have much of a choice. Those who allied with Âme must die. After I'm done with you, your lady friend will be next." Reaching down, he lifted Aya and jabbed him with a stick-like object. Sparks of electricity triggered down Aya's struggling body.

Meanwhile, Manx was crawling towards the car, fighting against the dizziness that was threatening to flatten her any moment. Fumbling for the handle, she managed to pull it. The door open and Manx pulled herself onto the front seat and stretched her arms for the car compartment. Opening it, she took out a revolver. Holding steadily in her hands, Manx narrowed her eyes in concentration. However, waves of nausea overtook her, blurring her vision. She cursed softly.

Aya collapsed in a heap, fighting to stay conscious. Hot steam was rising from his body. The masked man stood over him and sneered. "Your resistance intrigues me. Till now, nobody has been able to withstand it and remain conscious." He bent down, leaned close and whispered. "By the way, how's your comrade with the sunglasses doing? He doesn't look too well when I left him hanging…"

At that moment, something or someone swift knocked the masked man down. Aya rolled over to his side, placed his hands upon the wall and tried to push himself up. Between blurred visions, he could see a black haired man fighting fiercely against the masked man. It was André.

André hit the masked man 3 times across the face with the back of his hand. Stepping into him, he drew his arm across his shoulder and threw him. The masked man quickly rolled over and unleashed his electricity waves at him. André ducked to one side, kicked the stick-like object aside, reached out for his left wrist, grabbed it and forced his arm downwards. Tuning back, André pulled his left arm down and hit him head on throat with his free hand. The masked man stumbled backward. With lightening speed, André swing his elbow into the stomach with additional punches. The masked man fell down.

Panting, André ran over to Aya and yanked him to his feet. Half carrying and half dragging, he carried Aya towards the car and laid him on the backseat. Manx stared to him questioningly. André gave a polite smile and pushed her onto the passenger seat. Taking the wheels, He stepped onto the pedals and drove off. Halfway, Manx held out her revolver at André's head. Her eyes were flashing.

"Relax, Mademoiselle Manx," said André impassively. "I'm on your side."

"And what can you do to make me believe you?"

"Listen, Mademoiselle Manx, you need information on Âme, General Gloven and the cause of Seta Sakimoto's death. In exchange, I need passports and I.D for countries like USA, UK and Canada," He locked his eyes on Manx's. "Shoot me and Âme wins."

Manx shifted her eyes at Aya who nodded his head, looking back at André; she pursed her red lips and placed the gun down.

"Alright then, we have a deal. However, if you show one moment of betrayal, the boys and I will instantly kill you."

"Fine by me," André replied. "Now, do you have a safe place where we can hide for a while?"

"Yes, I'll give the directions as we talk," Manx fixed her hawk eyes on him. "I dislike being left in the dark."

André politely smiled and said, "In the late 1960's, the French Government secretly built an intelligent sector in its development & research team named Âme in their focus to create better agricultural and animal products through genetic modification. Âme did become successful in creating genetic modified plants, which was the best cover-up behind their true intention."

"To create genetic modified human beings," Manx replied.

"Oui (yes)," André nodded his head. "However, to do so, Âme needed very specific hosts to qualify for the genetic modification. Children were the best choice because they were easily susceptible to the modified gene Âme inserted into their bodies. So, Âme used orphans or unwanted children to experiment on. After tons of murders, they finally succeeded in the modifying the genes by using 20% of what they called the 'mutated GBG'. Like they wished, the results were beyond their imagination. The children, known as the 'Âme children', were able to do things that were impossible to normal human beings. Jumping off a building, scaling pillars, walking through physical barriers, making their bodies untouchable… The Âme children were then trained under the military to be mercenaries or assassins. It remained a secret till a journalist named Seta Sakimoto shown up in 12th August 1982 and published his findings at 24th October 1989. That led to the famous shutdown of Âme but it didn't matter because 50% of Âme children died before reaching 8 years old, followed by 30% before 10. At the 1989 shutdown, there are only 3 survivors. I'm one of them. Besides us, there are 4 scientists who had fled Jean Lobe, Nicolas Numasm, Phile Raginwald and Fideline Josette. All of them are dead except Fideline Josette. I'm not surprised that she's the only survivor. She's the only one who cared for us. Fideline has been against the Âme for using children as lab rats."

"The man who attacked us," Aya half-leaning against the back of André's seat, "Is he one of the survivors?"

"He's Subject 9377, he's known as Frère because he thinks it's his responsibility to keep a look out for me. I'm subject 9379. The last one is Shella, subject 9374. She and Frère are one of a kind. They strongly believe in destroying Âme to avenge themselves. They are the ones who killed Lobe, Numasm and Raginwald. But who they are really after is…"

"General Benjamin Gloven," said Manx.

"That's right. He is the hunter who wants us for his own selfish reasons. For the past 10 years, he has been chasing us down and we have been running away from him till now. Frère and Shella had enough of him and they want to bring down Âme, the general and all those who side with them. Frère thought Weib Kreuz was one of Âme's allies and so, he attacked you. I'm sorry about your friend, Yoji."

"He's still alive," Manx cut him off briskly. "There, turn right and straight down. This mutated GBG you mentioned earlier, what is it? How can it be so potent that it could change the genetic structure of the human DNA?"

"That…" André heaved a sigh. "I'm not sure. The data was divided between the 4 scientists. Frère has 2 while Shella has 1. The last one is with Fideline," His black eyes glistened with false hope. "If it could happen, I hope Fideline will destroy the data. Hers is the most vital because she's the creator of the mutated GBG. Her data is like fire that can backfire any time. If General Gloven obtains it, he will discover our weakness and use it to his own advantage. If Frère & Shella, they might create a biological weapon that endangers everyone."

"What do you know about Seta Sakimoto?"

"I never met him before only heard about his article and his death on 29th May 1990. From his death, that I learnt that he was the one who freed us from Âme after 8 long years even though his visa had expired and the loss of his job," Turning the sterling wheel. "I wonder how did he manage to live in France for 8 years on his own?"

"8 years in France…" repeated Manx, frowning. "A guy with an expired visa wouldn't be able to live on his own unless he had someone to help him…" Turning, "Aya. Where's Seta's journal?"

"With Ken. I asked him to look after it for me." Looking straight at Manx, "Don't tell me that Seta had help from someone? It's definitely not Jean Lobe."

"No," Manx smiled devilishly. "It's one thing that we have all overlook."

Omi leaned against as he gazed out the window, watching the endless scenery of white. It looked very pure and heavenly, untouched by mortal filth and yet, the sight made Omi had the yearning to reach out and lay his hands upon them. Even if it had to be for a spilt second, the sensation of that touch could may, maybe, gave him the something to fill his empty heart. Turning his head, he could see Manx busily tapping her fingers on her laptop, Aya sleeping and André… Disappointment swelled within him.

André was the one of those few whom he thought he could connect with them normally, without having the guilt of hiding his identity. Surprise, surprise, Fate was not on his side. It had never been since the day he was born. Omi remembered how he withheld his emotions when Manx revealed to him about André being one of the Âme children. He never expected him to be, never in a million lifetimes. In the next hours, Manx had them all packed and flying off to France. Ken was ordered to stay behind to look after Yoji just for extra precaution. So, it was up to them to complete this mission. 

Omi leaned back and closed his eyes, contemplating over on why Persia had chosen them with this case that was extremely delicately laced with politics with the French military. In Japan, they had Persia's influential means to protect themselves. However, once they reached France, it would be a different game to play. If any of them were to be caught, it was definitely game over.

He heard a sound of footsteps approaching towards him. Thinking it could be Manx, Omi half-opened his eyes. Instead it was André. He still had the same look that he had on the first day they met. Raven hair curling at the end of his creamy skin, seaweed green eyes and the composed smile that made any to have feverish dreams about kissing those lips. For a moment, Omi felt a similar connection in both of their lives, the parallel reason for their child-like exterior in front of others.

Nobody must know the dark secrets that chained the last sparks of their souls. 

"Omi…" André said in a soft smoothing way. "May I sit beside you?" 

"Sure," Omi replied, brown eyes looking deep in the seaweed green eyes. 

"Omi…" André began again. "I… want… to apologize for not being honest with you in the beginning." 

"You don't to. I wasn't being honest either about myself." 

"Still, as a person…" 

"Please don't," Omi hissed. "I want to hear any more apologizes. I don't want to hear about lies. More than what I'm lying to others about myself." Cupping his hands onto his ears and tears glistening down in cheeks. "I'm a murderer, André. That's what I am." 

"So am I, Omi," André whispered softly. "I lost my childhood a long time ago if I could remember what a childhood is. Sometimes, I have flashes of them in my dreams and nightmares. Unlike you, I can't recall if I ever have parents. All I remember is being in white building with women dressed like nuns, lots of laughter and singing. Then, in spilt seconds, I was in a lab and there were doctors hovering over me. Next thing I knew, I was with other kids, all locked up in the barracks, waiting for General to give us military training..." Suddenly, André began to cough violently, gasping betweens breaths; one hand covering his mouth while the other gripped the edge of his seat. His body shook intensely. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. 

"André!" Omi standing up and held him still to his seat. "Are you alright?" Seeing his bloodstained hand. "You're coughing blood?" 

"No…" André smiled faintly. "I'm alright. Really I am." Taking in slow and deep breaths, leaning back. "I just need to rest for a while." Closing his eyes, "For what's worth, you are fortunate to have friends to care for you." 

"André…" Omi bit his lip, changing his tone. "I'll get some medicine for you." Hastily walking into the kitchen cabin. Unknown to him, Manx was watching. Her eyes focused sharply on André's bloodstained hand. 

_ 50% of Âme children died before reaching 15 years old, followed by 30% before 18. At the 1989 shutdown, there are only 3 survivors. I'm one of them… _

_The Âme children maybe the world's greatest creation but in the name of science there's a limit to everything. For to go beyond that line, would be declaring oneself to be a god. Seta Sakimoto knew that and risked his own life to end that. The only questions left to complete the puzzle or should I say the links, are General Gloven, the Âme children, Seta Sakimoto and Fideline Josette. Yet, I wonder if Weib could link them the pieces that occur more than a decade ago. The starting door would be no other than the person we have all overlook…._

The sun was sinking into the countryside of Nice, the shadows covering the woods in their velvet mantle. The grass upon the fields had a certain inner glow in them, like they are glowing in the remembrance of the sun's warmth. Lining out in the field was a stone pavement, moving towards a mansion surrounded by thick walls. At the tip of that menacing rampart, hung many cameras. Circling between shifts of clockwise and anti-clockwise were the masked guards of General Gloven. 

Hidden low in the outer gardens were also two black-leather clad intruders. Treading low, they passed by the security guards like cats and nimbly climbed the walls into the hall. Once inside, they slide their ways down the hall and climbed many stairs, avoiding most of the security gadgets with crease and grace. This went on till they heard voices from one of the inner rooms. Noiselessly, they slid in and saw 2 people sitting beside a foundation shimmering in the light of the sliver lamps hung by the boughs of the neatly craved wooden trees over laden by big floppy leaves. Moving in the camouflage of the leaves, the two intruders stood still and listened for they had already recognized their preys. 

General Benjamin Gloven, dressed in his military outfit, lit up a Cuba cigar and puffed clouds of tobacco smoke as he tapped his fingers into the dainty white tablecloth. His accompanist, a woman in widow black gown covering up to her neck. Her copper red hair, streaked with lines of silver, plied in thick locks upward, emphasizing the golden cupid-shaped locket upon the collar of her gown. She wore thick makeup to hide the wrinkles of age; still, she upheld her dignified composure with her chin held high, cold and hard as steel.

"What business do you have that is so important that it couldn't wait till the decent hours of morning?" She spoke. Her voice accentuated of those like a matriarch. 

"Sophie Amiel…" General Gloven replied, smiling devilishly. "You haven't change a bit since I saw you."

"I believe, General," Sophie unemotionally cut in. "We are not here to talk about the days of our glory and youth. Whenever you are here, trouble brews and you want something from me that I will no doubt find it unpalatable. State your business and be gone. The very sight of you is repulsive " 

General Gloven looked at her, tightened his lips, put down his cigar and said, "The Âme Children are still alive. My sources said that they are coming here to complete what they had left behind since the 1989 shutdown. Everyone involved in Âme is dead save me, Fideline Josette," He held his cigar towards her. "And you." 

"What are you saying?" Her voice grew harsher. "You told them that they were dead." 

"They were. Apparently, there are 3 survivors - subjects 9374, 9377 and 9379. They escaped with the help of that reporter Seta Sakimoto," Staring hard at her. "And someone else." 

"I had nothing to do with that," Displaying haughtiness. "I was on cruise world tour on Europe when that happened. You gave me Morse code with the message that Âme was destroyed and so were the evidences, including the journalist."

"Yes, you were. How did he manage to smuggle 3 children out of France? It is impossible for him to do it by himself!" General Gloven hissed. "Enough of this cat & mouse game. They are after us, Sophie. They want us all dead!" 

"Nothing is impossible as so you so strongly put it," Sophie calmly lifted her teacup and drank. "You train them, didn't you? With the best of the best, as you had said years ago, they will be the finest troops that the world will ever seen. With them, France will be the supreme power! But look at what your idealistic dreams brought upon yourself. Âme had died and your past sins are coming back to haunt you. You can go on telling the Japanese diplomats about your good intents to keep international stability and all that political stuffs. However," she held up her finger. "In here, you do not bring in here your filth and wear your mask of good Faith…" 

"And what if I were to tell you that your son is alive," General interrupted, enjoying Sophie's shocked face. "Yes, how wide your pretty eyes are now, like they were when you are the goddess of France. By now, your son is roughly 20 or so. He could tall and handsome and may possess his mother's red hair." 

"What nonsense are you muttering now? My son is…" 

"Dead?" General Gloven shook his head. "Not dead but relieved and shaped into the image of my own desires." 

Leaning closer, "You think that you and your pathetic managers could hide from me forever. You call me filth and a pretender of the good Faith. Now you tell me who is the filth and the liar between you and me. In your desperate to reach the height of your career, you sacrifice something that belongs to me. _My son_!" 

"You knew?" Sophie became pale, highlighting the wrinkles. Her hands drew towards her lips. 

"Yes, only recently, when my scientists are linking the scientific reasons of why the remaining children are still acceptable to the mutated GBG. They stumbled across 2 genetic codes in one of them. _Yours and Mine!_ Explain how could our genetic codes were in him so coincidentally!" 

"Gloven…" Sophie trembled. 

"Why did you do it?" General Gloven yelled, his face flushed red in anger. "To kill my son and to hide me in the darkness!" He slapped her hard till she fell down to the floor. "After 20 long years, do I finally know my son has come back only to kill me!" Stomping his boot hard onto her. "To kill his father that he never truly known!" Bending down, he pulled her by the hair, roughly raised her high up and slapped her again. 

Sophie lay sprawled on the cold marble floor. Blood trailed down from her lips as 2 ugly bluish purple bruises merged upon the white cheeks. She coughed and wiped the blood from her lips. Yet, the eyes gleamed, undaunted and fearless. Slowly, she got onto her feet, placing her weight upon the fallen chair. 

"A father that he never truly known?" She repeated, then, burst into mock laughter. "Do you think that I would let you have my son even I had given birth to him? That was the only way that to protect him from the real truth about his father. For years, you've lied to me about the Âme children. You said that they were genetically engineered from the DNA itself. When the actual fact is that what you did was to inject this mutated GBG into their bodies and let it did the dirty work for you." Portraying herself as the heroine of an epic tale. "Tell me, what kind of a man would allow the deaths of hundreds of the homeless, especially children! Is this the kind of role model for my son to follow?" 

"He is my son!" General Gloven punched her in the stomach. Sophie wheezed and collapsed, receiving more blows one after the other. "My son! My son! My son!" 

He stopped, heaving heavily. Sweat soaked onto his shirt, forming big puddles on his chest and underarms. Taking a napkin from the table, he wiped his forehead and drank down a glass of port. Wiping himself, he looked at the frail crumpled woman onto marble floor lined with red curly liquid. From his side belt, he took out a pistol and another flattened rectangular object. 

"I'll give you one last chance, Sophie," General Gloven twisted the object onto the pistol and inserted bullets. "Tell me where Fideline Josette and I'll spare your life." 

Sophie merely turned, looked at him and said, "I'm not afraid of being killed by you or the Âme children. The only thing I fear is that my Maker would send me to hell for what I had contribute to the death of those innocent children. Yes, I gave up your son for my career but it was Monsieur Gerald Hermil, the president of Âme who enlisted your son to become one of the Âme children."

"What?" 

"Surprise?" Sophie vomited dark blood. "Do you really think Gerald Hermil is really your friend? Do you really think you had the support of Âme? Remember what you did, Benjamin Gloven! When Hermil refused to work with you, you killed his son and threatened the rest the same thing if they did not submit to you. As for me, you used me as access to the orphanages and you yourself know very well what you did to those children. As the Americans says, what comes around goes around."

"Where is Fideline Josette?" 

"I prayed to the Maker that she's dead. There's no way for to hide behind your military power. By this time, my testimony has reached to all those who wants to put an end to your treacherous ways. Within this month, Benjamin Gloven, your life will end by the hands of the Âme children or the government. Which is worse, I do not care, for this is all that I do to atone for my sins." 

"Then, go to your Maker," Pulling the trigger, "and let your soul be in His hands" 

The fields are still covered in their velvet mantles and the night sky pricked with little stars. The quiet silence was broken by the humming of a jeep. Softly, the jeep drove into the outer gardens. The occupants stepped out and flashed their torchlights at the surroundings. Dangerous and reckless as it seemed but there was no need to be cautious. The ground was littered with distorted bodies, their blood glittering in the starlight. Walking across the graveyard, the foursome hurried inside the mansions. No sooner or later, they found the corpse of Sophie in a pool of scarlet blood. 

"We are too late," Manx hoarsely whispered. "Damn it!" 

Aya surveyed the area. "Someone else was here besides the General and his men." 

"Shella and Frère," André answered, examining the dead actress' body. "But it wasn't them who kill Sophie. They only killed the guards." Pointing at the bullets holes at the wall. "Look, the one who killed Sophie was also shooting at them as well." 

"Then, the one who killed Sophie is," Omi said. 

"General Benjamin Gloven," concluded Manx, sighing in frustration. "Darn, he's a step ahead of us. If only I thought of her earlier, she might had the chance to live."

"What part did she have in Âme?" Omi asked, puzzled. 

"General was using her for easy access to orphanages. Sophie was one of the few actresses who personally financed these orphanages. Through her, General Gloven was able to pick out the best hosts for the mutated GBG. He probably lied about having them enrolled in government schools that would provide them with bright futures." Manx explained, "According to the French contacts, there are many people who simply wants to kick Gloven into retirement through the Sophie's testimony, particularly the Âme project."

"So, that means we have to find Fideline Josette as soon as possible," Omi said. 

"But where could she be?" Aya questioned. "We don't even know where she is." 

"I do." 

"What? André? What did you say?" Manx glared at him. 

"I know where she is," André spoke quietly. "She's still alive and at the safe place." 

"And so, where is she, André?" out spoke someone, in a twisted accent of Jamaican. Everyone spin around to see a dark-skinned woman, standing with one hand on her hip while the other held out a mean-looking circular disc. Her thick black plaited hair rested neatly around her neck. The purple lips shaped into a grin of a hideous hyena, enhancing the navy mascara outlining the green cat-like eyes. 

"Shella," André said slowly, approaching her step by step. The two walked in a circular motion. Their eyes fastened upon each other as they gradually positioned themselves in their fighting mode. 

"What is going to be, little brother?" Shella spin the disc around her index finger. "Frère told me you have betrayed us and have gone back to Âme with their latest addition known as Weib. It's really shocker to know you have chosen to be with them after what they did to us. Remember how our brothers and sisters died because of them."

"No, I haven't."

"Then, why did you help when Frère attacked them? We could have one less enemy on our hands."

"Look, girl," Manx butt in, her red hair glowed irritancy. "Whatever Frère told you is probably a half-truths, we have after Âme because they are responsible for the death of a journalist named Seta Sakimoto. We believed that General Gloven is still continuing the Âme project in creating genetically modified humans. However, he lacks the data, Fideline Josette and you three remaining Âme children."

"Shut up!" Shella scowled, flinging the disc towards Manx. The disc wheezed into air, hardly making a sound. Aya pushed Manx down to the floor. Omi ducked behind one of the pillars. The disc shockingly shot out miniature bullets upon the trio as they headed for refuge beneath the stone tables. One by one, the wooden curved trees fell victim to the flying disc. Circling around the bend, the disc swiftly swept past André by barely an inch and into the hands of its owner. Shella smiled, placed the disc back onto her leathery belt and clicked her fingers.

A thin red line drew across André's right cheek.

André remain silent. 

"I see you haven't lost your touch, subject neuf-trois-sept-neuf."

"My name is André."

"Is that the name that journalist gave you? You have no name, subject 9379. You never have one."

"You're wrong, Shella. We do have names. Seta Sakimoto gave us names. He said that all living things deserve to have names, not codes or numbers."

"Frère is right," Shella gnashed. "You've softened. Since the 1989 shutdown, the right thing that Frère and I should have done is to bring you along with us. But instead, you chose to be with that journalist who had filled you with worthless ideas and dreams. Don't you ever get it, André? We can never be one of them. We can never live the lives that we want. Our destiny to is to live long enough to destroy General Gloven and Âme!"

"What the heck are you talking about?" André grew angry. "We don't own anybody but ourselves to live the way we chose! Nobody owns us!"

"Seems to me, subject 9379," Shella's eyes hardened. "That you need a thrashing to knock some sense into you!"

A gunshot was heard and a silver bullet zoomed past Shella by her shoulder, causing a small tear on her sleeve. Shella turned and saw Manx holding her handgun. Manx coolly held up the gun and blew the smoke away. Then, walking up right to Shella.

In triple spilt seconds, Shella was slapped across the face.

"Weren't you being rude just now?" Manx grew icily. "We don't time for petty quarrels and I don't give a damn about you two's ideas of living. The situation is simply this. General Gloven failed in creating the genetic modified humans because of the lack of technology back then. Now, with advanced technology and the knowledge of biotechnology, his dreams of creating them could become a reality. However, he lacks the three vital ingredients – the data that you & Frère have, Fideline Josette and you three. Frankly, this Seta Sakimoto is the least I'm concerning about. What I really want to do is kick Gloven's butt, terminate Âme and go back to Japan. _Got a problem with that_?"

Shella stared at her, wide-eyed, blinked a couple of times. Aya and Omi quietly smiled to themselves. In such matters, Manx was the best person to handle them. Somehow, in that icy voice, there was something charismatic and commanding about it. Shella took in a deep breath and said.

"Very well, you have a point there. I'm simple here to see if any of those creeps come back. Frère is gone spying on General Gloven and would meet up with me at the Bleu Hotel at 0300 hours. So, I guess I have time to pay a visit to Fideline Josette if André is willing to talk." Her tone lowered as she deliberately put her arms around Manx's chest. "Hey girl, you look rather cute and irresistible back there. Care to have a girl talk later?"

"Pardon, je préfère l'homme que l'femme. (Sorry, I prefer men to women)." 

**_ À Suivre _**

****


	7. Enchaîné Chapitre 6 To accept the trut...

Enchaîné - Chapitre 6

_To accept the truth is to accept yourself… _

Inside the ivory walls of a cathedral, a lone woman, dressed into grayish robes, knelt at the pew and said her prayers in Latin. Gasping in her folded hands was a beaded necklace with a golden cross at the end. In her prayers, she said for forgiveness of the sins she committed years ago. The memories of them haunted her both day and night. They came to her in ghostly visions and human forms. Everywhere she went, she felt that there were eyes of the damned watching her moves whenever down the chapel or in the marketplace. Each breath or meal she took, she was certain that it would be the last. In the nights, though in the warmth of her covers, she shook in fear that an intruder would break in and shot her dead. Sleep was never a comfort for her. In the depths, she could see children, gentle innocent children with all sorts of tubes sticking into their bodies. A mask was forcefully placed inside their mouths to muffle their screams of agony and suffering. Many died in the process but there was more where they came. One by one, they came into the doors of death, all tricked by honey-coated promises of getting a better lives that was nothing compared to the lives of the lab rats. 

The routine was always the same dangling carrot method. Children were brought into colorful decorated rooms with tables over laden with tempting delicacies of chocolates and pastries. Beneath the sugary sweetness was a sleeping drug to weaken their senses and put into an immobile state. Once they were all drugged, the soliders would come in and separate them according to their ages and gender and sent them into the rooms for psychical examination. Those chosen were sent to upper levels while those rejected were sent back elsewhere. To where she did not know since the General refused to tell her. An arrogant bastard he was.

In the upper levels, each child was placed into a body tube with tubes sticking into their bodies. As soon as the tubes were in their places, they injected foreign substances into their weak bodies. Hours would pass by and the reactions would start occurring. Bodies jerking continuously, their hands and legs slamming onto the glass panels, pupils flickering and sometimes, blood leaked out from the openings of the tubes. There were a few that remained still and lifeless in their body tubes. Yet, there were some whose reactions were so violent and terrifying that the doctors had to shut them down in fear of an explosion. The reason for such reactions was so basic but any student could produce. The bodies were rejecting this so-called mutated gene that flawlessly won the heart of the ambitious military general who based his faith upon it.

She never forgot the sight of their bodies, for as long as she lives, the sight chained rooted in the very veins of her mind. In the process of rejecting, the blood vessels rupture in assorted strips of purple and red. The flesh literally exploded from within, so did the stomach, liver, intestinal, bladder… everything. All the gastric juices mixed with this gene made a fiery chain reaction that the poor child was burned up from within. In lightening speed, the eyeballs pop out of their sockets with their retinal veins still miraculously attached. Cracks merged upon the skulls and bits of the brain started to seep out as slimy residue. When the mask was removed, the tongue was burned and the teeth blackened. The mouth gaped opened in its silent scream. It was their only statement of their cry – their cry of justice!

Tears spilled endlessly from her eyes, trembling with rage, she stormed into the General's office and slapped the files into his fat greasy face. Half screaming, she named him a murderer. Stoned and yet, causal, the General shoved her aside and merely said that there were bounds for failure. From these failures, he expected her to learn so that less of these incidents would happen. After all, wasn't it she who created the gene and in-charge of the injecting process? So, who was truly the murderer? Therefore, she herself had to take more safety measures in ensuring the success of the project. She couldn't believe his words and hither to, he was telling the truth.

The murderer was no other than herself. She herself had agreed to take upon the assignment of creating genetically modified humans. What made her do so? Was it the deep yearning and craving to become the first female scientist to invent them? She closed her eyes tighter. The word 'invent' by the holy mother, these children were humans, individual creations of the Maker. Each of them given the breath of life and she insulted Him by degrading them as inventions! Grasping her bead necklace tighter, her prayers became rapid in pace.

By spending hours and excessive calculations on the proportions and the types of techniques, the amount of deaths decreased but it wasn't enough. Everyday, at least 10 children were pronounced dead and every night, her pillows were soaked with her tears. Everyday, she fell upon her knees and begged the Maker to kill her. She didn't care how but just as long Death was willing to take her away. Her pleads fell on deaf ears like the cries of the children. After months of slaughtering, positive results start to peak up. The mutated gene was having less harmful effects and becoming more susceptible towards their biological structure. The outcome was tremendous and breathtaking.

The Âme children were able to do the impossible both psychically and mentally. Trained cruelly by the General himself, they surpassed the obstacles that would take rookies years to master within weeks or a few days. Military strategies, codes, weapons and martial arts, these children learn them all. However, their success didn't wash away the memories of countless failures or the endless nights she spent in reciting the prayers of repentance.

When she felt the storm had passed, she decided to pay a visit to the military camp as invited by the General himself. She was brought into a high tower where the General wished to see her the fruits of success. There, she stood, watching screens that videoed the forest area. A booming rang through the place. A gate opened and a man dressed in bright orange stepped in. Shaking like a frightened animal, his body turning and tossing at his new surroundings. With the usage of a microphone, the General told the man that if he wished to become a free man, he must reach the other end of the forest. Otherwise, he would be dead.

A gunshot was heard and the man leaped and ran into the forest, running as fast as he could, not knowing where he was heading. In fact, deep in the heart of the forest where shattered tree trucks and undergrowth grew, he had no idea where the other end might be. She watched him, running in circles, his whole body in sweat. Then, upon the branches, she saw them. The Âme Children, all slightly grown, in their army crew cuts hair and suits. Like eagles, they swooped down and began to chase their prey, surrounding him, toying him and leading him into their trap. The poor prey was driven to a corner where Doom awaited him.

Like packs of hyenas, they stalked their prey before advancing in for the kill. Like fierce ants, they beat up the man, who was crying and begging for mercy. His cries were so high-pitched that she was rooted and immobile to do anything to save him. Red-hot blood spurted from his body as the Âme Children tore him from limb to limb. Their eyes gleamed at the pleasure of their prey wringing in anguish. Then, one of them, a red-haired kid, the one that the General was highly recommended him to be a great commando leader, took a huge stone and smashed the man's skull with it. Finally, the man's body went limp and still. She turned away, trying her best not to throw up. She neither could breathe nor stand properly. It was too appalling. Once again, the General had made her witness a murder.

Turning around, the next scene horrified her even more. The Âme Children were drinking the dead man's blood, streaking his blood upon their faces like they were glorifying themselves. What did the General do? Nothing. He stood there, laughed and inhaled his disgusting Cuban cigar. Sickened by him, she threw herself upon him and started hitting him. Immediately, the soliders drew her away. The General said nothing but composed himself. Heartlessly, he told her that she should be happy that her inventions were a success.

_Lair!_ She screamed. He had made them into killers. He made them to become salvages.

The General smirked, pulled his collar upwards and warned her to be aware of her alcohol and drugs intake. _Alarm?_ He smirked again. If she wished to keep her job, she better do what she was told to be. Handling a file, he told her that some of the children suffered from severe coughing or rashes upon their arms. Her duty was now to investigate and rectify the causes. 

Powerless and in despair, she broke down and wept. She was no longer a scientist; instead she had fallen disgracefully, fallen deeply into the fathom of her worst living nightmare.

She was the mother of the Âme Children 

The Mother of Killers.

Her punishment for defiling the will of the Maker.

She held the bead necklace so tight till her knuckles turned white. Her mouth was dried when her endless prayers but she knew it wasn't enough. She must pray, yes, she must for the Maker to have mercy upon her soul. Let it not be condemn into the fiery hells where weeping and gnashing existed. Let it not be given into the hands of the Devil or his minions. Oh please, tears rolled down her face. Please, dear Lord. She begged. Please let not the Maker forsaken her. If there was anything to atone for her past sins, let it come. 

Abandonment.

The angels of the Maker had given her that. For there was no one she could turn to for help. Everyone she knew had turned their backs against her or it either she who turned her back. She couldn't go to anyone or anywhere. Recently, the General's assassins killed Gerald's eldest son when he tried to stand up against him. His death was a warning to all. The greatest mistake for Gerald, he should have never accepted the General's proposal in the first place. Yes, it's his entire fault. He's to be blamed for everything, for the misery that his actions had caused.

To run away from the torment of loneliness, she went into the arms of alcohol and drugs prescribed by doctors to crease her illness known as 'depression'. For hours, she spent getting herself drunk into the wee hours of the nights. Waking up in an unknown place or bed, whether she was clothed or not. The drugs numbed her mind and sent her drifting into bliss. Ah! How true that ignorance is bliss! How she ravished the taste. She knew what she was doing to herself.

Self-destruction.

Then, on a dark night, she was drunk, all soaked in alcohol. Her vision was blurred as she held on to the railings of a bridge. She could see something holding out his hands towards her, beckoning her to come closer. It was all in fuzzy white mist, so comforting and appealing. She remembered leaning over the railings, calling out to it come closer to her but it was calling out to her instead. Like an obedient child, she did.

When she awoke, she found herself in soft bed, in the middle of a room, brightened by the morning rays. The light hurt her eyes. Hovering her was a woman. She thought she was in Heaven. But the woman said that though she was the goddess of France, she's still on earth. She recognized that voice and tried to respond but ended in mumbling nonsense. Behind her, she saw a man. Asian looking with very straight teeth, very fair skin, black-cropped hair, wearing spectacles. His voice was deep and smoothing. He came forward and introduced himself.

Seta Sakimoto

_What a peculiar name! _

Her hands loosened as she gulped in her sobs. He saved her that night that could have been her last. Although he saved her, she wished he hadn't. Why? He asked. I'm a murderess with the blood of innocent children on my hands. She said to him. He shook his head and replied.

Would a murderer weep for his victims?

_Seta Sakimoto _

_Why did you go? _

Then, from behind, she heard footsteps approaching her. It wasn't the dreadful thumping of the thick-soled army boots but rather something light and welcoming. Turning around, she saw a fair-skinned young man with seaweed green eyes that spoke of an inner sadness. She inhaled sharply and dropped the bead necklace; her body shrank into the darkness. 

"Fideline," said André softly. "It's me, André." Kneeling down. 

"André?" Fideline repeated. Her stiff hands reached out into the light and placed gently onto André's face. The fingers fondled the smooth skin. "It is you, André." Throwing herself onto him. "Thank the Lord that they still haven't found you." Looking at him questionably. "What are you doing here? You know very well not to come here." 

"I know, Fideline," Holding the nun's hands. "I need your help to bring Âme down. Besides," He covered his hand and began to cough. Showing his bloodstained palm, "There is another urgency." 

No further waste of time, Fideline brought the group into her room. After heavily blotted the door and closing the curtains, she turned and faced them. Omi could not help but notice how worrisome she looked. Like a timid and fearful mouse that was constantly at her toes at every strange noise, Fideline was nearly at the edge of a nervous breakdown. Taking in a deep breath, Fideline tried to keep her voice steady. 

"Sophie often tell me that our sins would come back to haunt us and I believe the Good Maker has decided that day would be today," Her lips quivered. "Your presence can tell me one thing that has already passed. Sophie is dead, isn't she?" 

"Yes, Fideline," answered André, his head lowered. "Gloven killed her." 

Fideline chocked back her tears, "His time still hasn't come yet, I suppose. The clock is ticking and there are many things to tell you and your friends. Are you ready to hear?" 

"Yes," André hesitated, "and no." 

Fideline gave a faint smile, "A truthful answer, my dear child." Tilting her head and pressing her lips together, "Yet, this is what you have to hear. This is the account of what happened before the 1989 shutdown. As you all know, I the one responsible for the creation of the mutated GBG that gave birth to the Âme Children. Many innocent children have died in the process because their bodies have rejected the GBG. Regrettably, the process could be done in a more subtle and painless way." Taking in another breath. "In 1987, 50% of the Âme Children died before they reached their 8th year, that's about 500 children, not including the other hundreds who did not survived the initial stage of the mutated GBG. By the time of 1989 Âme shutdown, 9997 children were pronounced dead. In total, 1457 children died." 

"Sonnai (No way)…" Omi burst out. "Gloven actually slaughtered so many children." 

"That does not the number of women involved in the Âme project as well." 

"Women?" Manx emphasized. Her eyes narrowed. 

"Yes, homeless women were also involved. Due Gloven's political power, the police kept their mouth shut," Facing André. "That is why your uncle, Seta Sakimoto came to Nice." 

"Seta Sakimoto is my uncle?" André gasped. "He never told me that." 

"He couldn't bring himself to tell you or anyone. It was too painful for him. He came down, under his pretence as journalist whose sole duty was to interview Sophie. When in fact, he was looking for his sister, Ai, who came to France as an exchange student in the studies of DNA & genetic chemistry. For months, Seta did not receive word from Ai and was worried. So, he came here to look for her at the University. To his worst fears, Ai had disappeared and was last seen at the library. He made a report to the Japan Embassy but nothing was done. Tracking back to the time, she disappeared. Ai was working as industrial attachment student for Âme" 

"Ai has probably been found out about Âme and she was caught," Shella remarked. 

"That is correct. She was supposed to be silenced but Gloven had other plans for her," Fumbling for words. "They… they… had her… pregnant." 

"Pregnant? Why?" Manx questioned. 

"From the results, Gloven came up with an idea to inject the mutated GBG into pregnant women instead of the children. He assumed that the mutated GBG would be able to interact easily with the nucleotides while the fetus is at the development stage, to decrease complications, as he put it." 

"But the outcome wasn't what he expected…" 

"Yes," Fideline nodded her head like a broken doll. "The outcome was very horrendous." 

"Yet, Ai survived," Aya pointed out. 

Fideline nodded again. "Ai was the only one who survived but she didn't last long either. She died moments after giving birth to André. I thought André couldn't make it but he did," Tears began to swell at the corners of her eyes. "Till now, the mutated GBG had no effect on him." 

"What is this mutated GBG?" Shella held out 3 discs – one with the size of a normal CD-ROM while the other was no bigger than the size of a penny. "I suppose I'm not the only one having this question." Walking closer. "Where's your disc, Fideline? Frère and I have waited almost a decade for the answer."

"Frère? He's still alive?"

"Of course, he is. You train us how to stay alive." She grinned. 

Fideline reluctantly placed her hands into her sleeve. "Alright, if this is what you want. Go to my desk and there, you'll find a laptop. No normal laptop would be able to access this save this one." 

Shella made a low grunt, walked towards the drawer and took out a laptop no thicker than half an inch. Fideline lifted the cover and sorted the CD-ROM disc into very thin compartment, followed by the 3 penny-sized discs. Within a few minutes, the screen displayed a whirl of ambience patterns, ended by a security window. Fideline typed a few buttons and another display appeared. 

** Naissance**

**Âme**

**Pierre Tombale Longévité**

"Welcome to Âme," Fideline moved the move to click the 'Pierre Tombale' section. "In each of the children, we inserted a miniature device to monitor their health status. If they are dead, the names will be red. Those alive will be highlighted in brown. Like this."

**Subjet 9374 **

**Subjet 9377 **

**Subjet 9379 **

"This includes the general information about them."

Sujet 9374 aka Shella 

Date de creation 

18th Janvier 1980 

Gendre 

Féminin 

Âge 

19 

Emplacement actuel 

Afrique 

Statut 

Dengereux 

Chasser 

Général Beniamin Gloven 

Sujet 9377 aka Frère 

Date de creation 

12th Juin 1979 

Gendre 

Mâle 

Âge 

20 

Emplacement actuel 

Tokyo, Japon 

Statut 

Trés Dengereux 

Chasser 

Général Beniamin Gloven 

Sujet 9379 aka André 

Date de creation 

22th Aôut 1979 

Gendre 

Mâle 

Âge 

20 

Emplacement actuel 

Tokyo, Japon 

Statut 

Dengereux 

Chasser 

Général Beniamin Gloven 

"Wait a minute!" Shella pointed at the screen. "I don't recall this being in the data."

"Âme still has their main headquarters that constantly had their data updated. The discs are equipped with satellite linkage that enables information to be automatically sent to them. The small discs are the ones that hold the data but it lacks the database software to run them. Therefore, this CD-ROM is used. Nevertheless, without either one of them, they are completely useless by themselves. At the 1989 shutdown, we divided the data. Jean Lobe was given the CD-ROM, Nicolas Numasm with '_Pierre Tombale'_, Phile Raginwald with '_Longévité_' and I myself with '_Naissance_'. By doing so, we hope that Gloven could never have his hands on them. There were rumours of him creating another project to improve _Enchaîné_.

"_Enchaîné?_" André repeated. Suddenly, he fell on his knees and coughed. Bright red leaked out from the folds of his hands. Omi held on to him.

"André, your cough is worsening."

"That's no good," Shella took out a white handkerchief and wiped André's mouth. "His body is beginning to show sighs of rejecting the mutated GBG. Fideline, is there a way to reverse or even slow down the process?"

"I'm afraid there's isn't. Once the body starts to reject, the process won't stop. Soon, the cells in his body will break down one by one and he will continued to vomit blood. If he's lucky, the mutated GBG in him might adapt and modified its biological structure. If not, he'll die."

"Modified? The mutated GBG can modify itself?" Shella gasped in shock. "But how?"

"GBG is originally created by the basic nucleotides – thymine, adenine, cytosine and guanine," Clicking on the _Longévité _section. "With simple mutation process like radiation and addition of chemicals, the mutated GBG is created. Once injected into the body, GBG combines with the nucleotides, strengthening the hydrogen bonds between them and yet, creating a cobweb bond that joins all the nucleotides, deoxyribose sugar and the phosphate bases. A normal DNA strand is in the formation of a double helix but when combined with the mutated GBG, the strands rearranged themselves into this." The screen displayed a crystal blue model of the strands in twisted and distorted snake-like forms. "We named this _Enchaîné _DNA and I believe the General is intending to perfect this DNA."

Omi examined the blue luminous shape and unconsciously murmured, "They looked like chains."

"Oui (yes)," Fideline did a cross-like gesture on herself. "That is why we named it _Enchaîné _DNA. _Enchaîné_ means to be in chains."

"Yes, the chains you people brought them upon us!" snapped Shella, standing up. "Now, tell is the procedures of this _Enchaîné _DNA..."

Unexpectedly and abruptly, the dark smoke burst out and the laptop sizzled in the electric sparks. 

"What the…" Shella grabbed her by the collar and held her high up. "Why did you?"

"While I was explaining to you, I activated the self-destructed system. Now, all the data has been destroyed and this is for the best for everyone. The others would want it that way."

"DAMN YOU!" Shella flung Fideline aside. Manx caught her. "Do you know what you could have done with the data? You could find a cure for André!"

"Whether André dies or not, it is the will of the Maker to decide. I'm a nun now, dedicated to spend my remaining days to prepare my soul when I die. Furthermore, isn't this one of your objectives to bring Âme down or is there any other plans you are not intending to tell me or your comrades?"

"GO TO HELL! You… Argh!!!" Shella cringed as green electric sparks danced around her right arm, knocking down to her knees.

"Shella!" André grabbed hold of her. "Not you too." Placing his hand on her right arm, he gave a cry. "Your arm is burning like fire." Pulling up the sleeve. "What happened to you?"

On Shella's right arm was a grotesque marks darted across the veins, resembling the bark of a rotten tree truck. Whitish steam floated in wisps around the purplish areas, turning into brown then black then brown again. The touch was hot yet clammy. André felt nauseous at the whiff of smoke and burned flesh. Shella said nothing but turned her face away. Fideline sighed and muttered a prayer in Latin.

"Signs of the final stages. The _Enchaîné _DNA is unable to interact with your skin cells. Once in contact with the natural surroundings like water and air, the DNA ruptures and literally burnt itself on the spot as shown on the purplish areas. To reduce, you have to cover your entire face to void contact. Now, that method doesn't work anymore..."

"I can still bear with it," Shella snapped, "What I couldn't stand is you being a hypocrite! You want to atone for your sins? Well, the bloody first thing, you could do was to find a cure for both André and me! Why did you destroy the data, especially yours? _Naissance_ could be the key to rectify the flaws of the _Enchaîné _DNA."

"To you? Or someone more dangerous than Gloven? Like Frère?" Fideline unsympathetically spoke. "_Naissance_ is my brainchild and should be used for something for life. Instead Gloven used it for Death! Non! What _Naissance_ is, the secrets will die with me and me alone!"

"_Ne fais pas l'idiote_!" Shella retorted. "What good will it do to keep silent? Tell us about _Naissance_ and we are to defeat Âme within this week or so!"

"_Menteuse_ (Lair)! Don't think I don't know that you and Frère are in this together!" Fideline's face darkened. "As long as Frère is still alive, it makes no difference. Frère is the nightmare of Âme. He is like a two-headed snake, twisted and bloodthirsty. _Tel père tel fils_!" 

"Aya, what's she saying?" whispered Omi, feeling very irritated at his inability to understand the French nun. Aya hand signaled him to remain quiet.

"Frère has a father?" André looked intently at Fideline. "Wasn't he an orphan?"

"He was meant to be one. In fact, he wasn't to be in this world! Sophie didn't want Gloven to know that he has a son. The Bon Dieu knows that Gloven could never be a father!"

"General Gloven is Frère's maternal father?" André became breathless with disbelief. "I don't believe this. Il doit y avoir erreur (There must be a mistake)!"

"Nope, there isn't any," Shella sneered. "Frère and I overheard Sophie confessing it during the last moments of her life. Gloven was so furious that he shot her."

"You knew?" Fideline's turn to be shocked. "You two were there? Didn't you do anything to _stop_ it?"

"Why?" Shella rolled her eyes. "She isn't my mother. Frère couldn't be the least bothered with it."

"You meant to say that you left Sophie to be killed?" 

"Frankly speaking, oui (yes). She deserves it!"

With an outraged cry, André punched Shella in the face and pinned her to the ground. His face inflamed with fury.

"You and Frère are like animals. No matter how much you hate her, you don't have the right to be a god!"

Shella wriggled and yelled back. "Am I supposed to let her get away after the lies she told me? Like a naive little girl, I believed her. I thought I could have a better life than staying in an orphanage. Instead, I was stuck inside body tube with needles sticking inside my body! For days, they inject this _Enchaîné _DNA into me! Unlike you, I have to experience an endless living **HELL**! Why should I help her? That bitch deserves it!"

Pushing André aside, Shella flashed bitterness in her cat eyes. "From the start, Frère and I knew that Sakimoto only came for you. Yet, we decided to help you because we wanted to escape as well. At the 1989 shutdown, Sakimoto chose you to come with him to Japan. At that moment, did you think about us? Were we in your thoughts at that time?" Rubbing her right arm. "No, you didn't. You just took his hand and left, leaving us behind." Her voice started to crumble. "Then, I was left alone, alone for the next couple of years."

"Shella…"

"Nevertheless, I didn't blame you. Sakimoto is your uncle. It's natural for kinsmen to look after their own. Not creatures like us. We are diabolic creatures of the damned and anything that is unholy. An abomination to nature." Gazing at André. "That's what we really are and soon, I'll be dead and so will you."

"Save for Frère," spoke up Manx, determining not to be left at the background, fingering her red hair. "I believe he's using the both of you for his own revenge."

"What are you saying?" Shella glared at her. "Frère would never do this to us! We are his siblings."

"Ah! That is what he wants you to believe," Manx stressed. "Knowing that you will be blindly devoted to him, he used you to gather the trifle things he need. After the 1989 shutdown, you two went on your separate ways. Being highly trained by the military, it would be more practical to be constantly moving on the enemy's territory. You went to Africa while he remains at France, compiling all the date he need about Âme & _Enchaîné _DNA." 

Pausing long enough to allow her words to sink in. "If you think that we were just standing like pretty decorations, you were strongly mistaken. The boys and I have come up with reasonable theories but we need to listen your soap opera conversation to confirm them…"

"What…"

"Then, I was left alone, alone for the next couple of years," quoted Manx, taking control of being the sole speaker. "This means that Frère has recently contacted you. He probably knew you are suffering from the final stages of the rejection process and so, decided to make use of you. For the last years, Frère has one thing rooted in his mind. To kill _everyone_ involved in Âme. Gloven, Sophie, The scientists, Sakimoto, André and you."

"To further prove my point, remember the _Pierre Tombale_ section? At the part, _Emplacement actuel_ that should meant actual location literally. Well, the data is slightly outdated. If Âme is really efficient in their updating, shouldn't it state your location at Nice, France?"

"Your point is?"

"Fideline has already said that the 4 discs are satellite-linked to the Âme headquarters and Frère knows this." Shifting her attention to Fideline. "Thus, you'll know what happened when the discs self-destructed. A signal will be given out in seconds but its long enough for the satellite to pick up our location. In other words…"

Roars of army jeeps echoed outside the cathedral. Their headlights shone like hungry hound dogs as the rattling of loading machine guns reverberated with the stomping thuds of heavy boots. Aya and Omi took their position as they unbolted the door. André took Fideline while Manx and Shella led them to another exit.

"It's every man for himself." 

Upon the hill above, Frère sat upon a tree stump and nonchalantly watched Gloven and his men surrounding the cathedral. Toying with his pocketknife, he simpered at the prospect of a battle. How ridiculously stupid these humans are? How would André and Shella defeat the remnants of the Âme troops in their current state of health? In addition, it would be rather entertaining to see the amateur Weib assassins to handle military men. 

_Yes, let them kill each other... _

Then, his baby blue eyes caught a glimpse of a nun through the painted glass windows.

_Fideline Josette … _

Sinister thoughts darkened the baby-blue eyes as the pocketknife straightened itself. 

_One more thing to deal with before the main prey… _

**_ À Suivre _**


	8. Enchaîné Chapitre 7 Be the proof of my...

**Enchaîné - Chapitre 7 **

**Be the proof of my existence… **

"You bitch!" Shella cursed, cat eyes fixed on Fideline. "You set us up!'

"Perhaps, either way, Death is awaiting me," replied Fideline. "Will you spare me once you gained the knowledge of _Naissance_?"

"Alright, shut the hell up, you two!" interrupted Manx, "Aya, you and Shella deal with the guards while I contact Persia. Omi, you and André take Fideline to our place. Don't argue with me, Shella. I don't have time…"

Just then, hard round objects burst through the glass windows. As soon as they ground, foul-smelling gases swept across the floors like a flood, engulfing the group. Shella roughly grabbed Manx and Aya, speed down the hallway and up the to attic, kicked down the door and threw the two onto a couch. Pulling the curtains over the windows, she took Manx by the collar. Half-dragging half carrying, she nearly tossed her to a corner. Taking out a laptop, she plugged it into one of the electric terminals. Tapping onto the keyboards, Shella heard the ratting sounds of the guns hailing upon the hysterical nuns and other believers of the Faith. She turned to Manx, who was still coughing over the effects of the gases.

"When you are ready, hopefully when red haired boy and I are facing the bullets, you better be finished with whatever you are intending to do!"

In the midst of the gas clouds, André managed to carry Omi and Fideline towards the kitchen as he fought his way against the panicked crowds. Catching his breath, he surveyed the area for possible intruding. There was none. Outsides, he heard the dying screams of both men and women, followed by another hail of bullets. Then, bright glaring lights torrent the entire cathedral. The silence was suffocating. 

"Omi," André shook the semi-unconscious boy. "Omi, wake up!"

"André," whispered Fideline, taking in gulps of air. "There is something I haven't told you."

"That can wait…" 

"No, it can't and it shouldn't." Gripping hard on André's wrist. "I haven't told you about Frère. Just as I have thought, he's using you and Shella for his own deeds. Before 1989 shutdown, Gloven was already experimenting on him to be the absolutely perfect being. At that time, I wasn't around because I was recovering at Sophie's place. From what the assistants told me, something went wrong during one of the experiments but Frère survived. I fear very much for what he has become. Here," Holding out a tube filled with cobalt-blue liquid. "Take this. It may relieve you from the symptoms of the rejection process. For how long I don't know how."

"I may not need it," André looked skeptically at it. "Like you said, I'm going to die."

"That may be the case, my child." Fideline patted his hand. "For you are different from the rest, to me, you are special." She laughed softly. "Maybe because you look like your mother or father in some ways. I wasn't being truthful back then, may the Bon Dieu forgive me, while I was staying here, I was creating an, if you may, antidote. Sophie always said me that our sins will come back for us, and so, I was preparing myself for it. This is what Sakimoto would want and so do I." She pulled out the cork and held the tube to André's lips. "We want you to live the life that you want. The life that you should have, André. You are human, born in the image of the Bon Dieu, with His breath of life in you."

André remained quiet and drank the liquid. He felt a hot glowing sensation, like a renew energy charging in him. In a dreamlike state, he thought he heard Fideline saying.

"Sakimoto, I love you so much."

"Fideline…"

Then, he felt her body pressing against his. It was heavy and cold and there was something warm, its smell so fresh and distinctive. He looked down and saw red reflecting itself in the sheets of the glaring lights and the darkness. Numbly, he looked up and someone tall, in black, wearing a tribal-like mask with a silencer placed in his gloved hand.

In a raspy voice, the killer greeted.

"_Salut, neuf-trois-sept-neuf_." 

Half-moaning, Aya felt like his lungs were filled with anything except oxygen. Putting his weight upon the edge of the couch, he clambered himself to his feet. Shaking his head, he saw a faintly blurred vision of Shella, staring immensely at him, holding a rifle in her hands. With one high-heeled boot forward, she tossed it to Aya.

"About time you wake up, red hair," Shella muttered. "Think you can handle this?"

"Yes, why?" Aya replied hotly.

"Listen, while your girl do her stuff, I'll deal with the guards, you watch my back. Fine?"

"Sure," Aya observed his newfound weapon. "You'll deal with the guards like you did back at Sophie's mansion."

"Oh?" Shella looked amused. "And how would you know?"

"No human is capable of ripping bodies apart without the use of explosives or something."

"My, you are indeed more than that cold attitude of yours," Shella moved closer. "And this is what I like." Swiftly, she seized Aya and held him into an immersed kiss. Aya could feel her sugary tongue shoving deep into his mouth, erupting insane warmth to flush up into his skin. The runnings of his hair by her fingers and the slow rubbings on his back made him feel dizzy and weak. 

Abruptly, Shella broke the enchantment and pushed Aya aside. He stared at her in bewilderment, not knowing whether to be angry or remain calm. Licking her lips, she brushed up the straying strands of her black hair. Moving slightly, she gently caressed Aya's face.

"Don't get me, wrong, Aya." Sorrow painted her eyes. "I just need someone to remember me." Giving a pretentious laugh. "What better way to do it than to kiss a man." Unlocking the handle on the windowsill. "Remember to watch my guard, ok?"

Aya nodded. "Be careful." 

"You too." 

As soon the window swung opened, burning lights penetrated into the room, followed by shouts and sounds of loading guns. A cold wind swept and flipped Shella's black raven hair. Lifting her arms up, parallel to the ground, she drew to her full height. With one jump, she propelled herself down onto the hard ground where her enemies instantly showered with bullets. Turning and tossing, she evaded them skillfully and gracefully, like a ballerina among the falling stars. 

Driven to slip the hands of Hades, Shella took down one of the guards, held him and threw him onto his comrades, sending them flying into the other end of the field. Pressing on the triggers, she fired back left and right. From the attic, Aya cursed as he aimed at the snipers hidden among the bushes. Quickly, he shot at the headlights, swallowing Gloven's men into the night's darkness, hoping it would give Shella the extra edge she needed against the swamping black ants. Digging into Shella's haversack, he took out a grenade. Biting onto the pin, he plugged it out and threw the destructive object onto the obstructive bushes below. Fierce clouds of dirt, smoke and fire exploded, sending its charred victims everywhere in bits and pieces. 

Manx, wearing a headphone, typed furiously on the keyboard; half wishing that Shella & Aya wouldn't cause too much damage that could affect the communication systems. The laptop screen fizzled with words and numbers, tensing Manx by the seconds. Scattering her thoughts was the ominous banging of the doors and hostile voices. Darting up, she could see cracks protruding on the wooden surface. Aya heard it too. Finishing with the last of the grenades, he roughly passed Manx a small revolver. Pulling up the desk, he pushed it straight to the door, together with the rest of the furniture. 

Meanwhile, Manx was emptying the remaining contents of the haversack, a rope and a few harnesses. Outside, she heard drying screams. Peeping from the opened window, she gasped at the sight of Shella's round boomerang flying in the air, slicing and dicing the men from limb to limb, like it had a mind of its own – aggressive and bloodthirsty. The men went on four arms in vain to avoid it but it simply knew where to go and what to do. Once and twice, Manx saw the deadly weapon cutting men from their abdomen to heads, sinking deeply into their torsos and bursting out, leaving trails of internal organs and hot dark blood. 

From the folds of her left boot, Shella held out a liquor bottle and took a deep draught. With a lit lighter on one hand, she blew out a fiery wave upon the fleeing men. The fire caught hold of their clothes and started feeding, causing the men to scream as they rolled across the field. Shella grinned. Suddenly, green electric sparks danced around her body, forcing her to drop defenseless on her knees. She let out a sharp cry.

Seeing an opportunity, one solider struck her with the butt of his machine gun. Shella fell hard to the ground. Landing on her back, she saw him aiming right at her head. His face was petrifying, his eyes hard over the losses of his comrades. Out of the blue, his eyes turned dull and lifeless. Shella felt his corpse falling next to her. Looking up, she saw Aya & Manx scaling down the cathedral, each of them holding on to a gun.

"Double protection," Shella muttered under her breath. "Argh!" Sucking in the air as another green electric sparks encircled her. She felt she was burnt alive. "Damn it!" She cursed, smelling the foul steam arising from her suit. 

"Shella," Manx ran towards her as Aya kept a sharp lookout for more of Gloven's men. "Bear with it. We'll get you to the doctors once we crossed _Hibou Bridge._" 

"Doctors?" Shella snarled, as she half-placed her weight on Manx's petite figure. "I rather die than let them touch me. They will start experimenting me once they get their filthy hands all over me." 

"We'll see. Come on, there are more of them up at the attic. We'll be sitting ducks if we stick around any longer." Turning to Aya. "Where's the jeep?" 

"Hidden among the forests. Half a mile at the back of the cathedral," Aya moved in and took Shella. "I'll carry her. It would be easier and faster this way." 

"Thanks," answered Manx, relieved. Surveying the area overlaid with the outcomes of a fight that lasted for a couple that seemed like an eternity. She throatily murmured. 

"This place of worship is now a place of death." 

Tracking through the bushes, undergrowth and mud, Aya, Shella and Manx reached towards their jeep, safely hidden by the camouflage of dried woven leaves. Yanking it aside, Manx prepared to start the engine as Aya gently placed Shella at the back seat. Unscrewing a bottle, Aya poured the cool water upon Shella's dried shriveled skin and gave some to moisten her parched lips and throat. The seductive temptress skin was eroding away, revealing thin veins of green and blue merging among the shades of bronze, brown and black flesh. Her spirited cat-eyes were dimming at its last spark and her voice was coarse unlike the saucy appealing one she had before. 

"Don't look at me like that, I'm still alive and kicking while I still can." 

"I know." 

"Gloven wasn't there. I didn't see him." 

"Maybe he was but he was hiding." 

"Non, he wasn't there. He wasn't there at all. Manx is right. Frère did betray me after all." 

"That's an assumption." 

"Non, Gloven would always be there whenever there's a chance to get us. He wants to be there to witness his prey falling into his clutches. That _chasser_ will never absent himself when he's at the edge of victory." Half chocking, she continued. "Frère has a secret ability that he has been hiding from me. I don't know what it is with it, he knows a lot." A deep crackling sound vibrated out from her stiff lips. "He gains information about you guys. I don't know how he got it but he has access to them. You have be wary of him, Aya. Like Fideline said, he's a two headed snake." 

"Rest now, Shella," Manx softly coaxed. "You need to…" 

A rustling of the bushes disrupted her. Aya held out his sword while Manx held her revolver. The bushes continued to shook and the twigs snapped beneath the stranger's weight. Out came a similar figures, it was André carrying an unconscious Omi in his steady arms. 

"André," Aya approached him, glancing at Omi. "What happened?" 

"Frère…" 

Omi awoke to the familiar deep raspy tone of someone he knew. In between his drowsiness, he saw man donned in black leathery suit, removing his recognizable tribal mask. Omi was taken back at the appearance of the man who savagely attacked Yoji and nearly left him for dead. Muscular toned and built, clean shaved chiseled Greek face, baby blue eyes shadowed with sinister thoughts and lips full with the anticipating of fresh blood. Flinging the silencer to one side, he watched him walking his leisurely time towards André holding the lifeless Fideline in his arms. Omi held on to his crossbow tightly. 

"You know, my dearest André, that bullet was meant for your little friend, Omi." Baby blue eyes fixed, gleaming evilly. "Don't pretend to be semi-conscious, little boy. Look at him now. Pathetic. Still in shock over the loss of this pitiful wretch." 

Pulling André by his hair, " Come, let's see what she has told you." Surfacing out from his ivory skin, hideous strands of lavender threads obtruded out and sunk deep into André's skull. André trembled violently; his mouth gaped opened, eyes turning white, skin losing color. Frère smiled at the torment of his victim. 

Acting towards his instincts, Omi grabbed his crossbow and fired. His arrows flew and sliced the lavender threads. André collapsed facedown to the ground. Frère staggered backwards, clutching his left hand. Turning, he faced Omi. 

"Don't interrupt me, boy. Or else I'll do the same thing what I did to your friends back home in Japan." 

"Ken? Yoji?" Omi bit his lip. "What did you do to them?" 

"Oh nothing really," Frère fingered his jagged dagger from his side pocket. "I merely needed some little information about your whereabouts, what you know about Âme and a tweedy bit of your backgrounds. They didn't put up much of a fight, I'm afraid. In fact," His nails at the dagger's tip. "There is nobody who could match me. Shella is my dear sex toy while André," looking at the crumpled heap. "Always succumb to his human emotions and yearnings. That is why I despise you humans, such miserable weaklings confined by their limitations." 

Omi threw his darts; Frère caught them in his hand and crushed them. Extremely swift, he launched forward and punched Omi in the stomach. Omi gasped and later gave a high-pitched scream as he felt the dagger sinking deep in the flesh of his right palm. Frère firmly pinned Omi's left hand onto the cold table while the other grasped the soft parts of Omi's neck. His legs heavily attached on the lower half of Omi's wriggling body. He let out a deep laugh. 

"_Néanmoins_ (Nevertheless), you can provide the pleasures of making me feel like a god!" Omi felt the lavender threads caressing the sides of his face and Frère's hot breath. "Come, Omi. Let me in your little skull of yours that made André incapable of killing you." 

In a spilt twilight, Omi underwent an undistinguishable ordeal that was left him dazzling blinded and stationary. The lavender threads were penetrating through his skin, flesh, brain and all. Like worms, they borrowed their way into the nerve cells, extracting bits of information. Oxygen left his lungs with stunning suddenness, making his whole body numb with shock. Lightening flashes swept past him like a roller coaster ride, his limbs seemed to turn into lead. Frère's voice was echoing from a distance, in fragments like stray leaves in a howling wind. 

"Ah!!" Frère fondled his newfound toy. "What a childhood you have, Omi. Your father wouldn't pay for your ransom. Your Uncle Persia trained you to be an assassin and recently, you killed your brother by your own hands. How tragic and painful it has been for you." 

Examining the stone-cold brown eyes staring in unknown spare, Frère continued his amusement and licked the warm blood oozing down Omi's right arm. Unlike the other two, this one provided an enjoyable entertainment. Moving his hand down, he gradually unzipped the dark navy jacket and unbuttoned the dusty white shirt, button by button, exposing the bare naked upper half of Omi's youthful body. There were signs of his manly growth development and the potential of becoming an attractive adult. Frère licked his lips as he felt the flawless skin upon his fingers. As this boy matured, there were lessons that needed to be taught to him and Frère was more than willing to let him experience first hand. Inch by inch, he fingered the sides and counted the rib bones of his paralyzed victim. Squeezing and spreading the soft flesh, he watched Omi mumbling inaudible words in his giddy trance. 

Heightened by the half-naked sight and sounds of explosion, rattling guns and screams, Frère took his time proceeding on to unclick the belt, pulling down the shorts, revealing the plain brown boxer's shorts. Tilting his head in pleasure, he placed his hands upon the shorts, lifted and pulled down to see the most exquisite body part he desired to see most. 

Wham! Something solid and stiff struck on his head, followed by another clobbering and a punch in the stomach. Next, Frère was thrown onto the kitchen shelf. He fell hard onto the floor; broken pieces of dishes rained on him. Before he could get onto his feet, blows hit him across the face, chest and abdomen. A sharp object slashed upon his cheek, his tongue tasted his own blood. Then, something deadly jagged was inserted into his side. He gagged at the anguish of his flesh tearing within. The baby-blue eyes saw someone standing over him, his raven hair wet with sweat and seaweed eyes burning rage. André, huffed in hatred of this foul freak, turned and quickly held Omi in his arms. He called out to the boy who continued to mumble in his fading trance. 

"Omi, wake up! Wake up!" Shaking him fiercely. 

"André…" Omi whispered vaguely, his eyes flickering. 

"Hush, you're safe," André ripped a sleeve of his shirt and bind Omi's bleeding hand. "Stay awake." 

"_Comme toujours, tu es beaux_ and yet nobody is safe with you, André," coughed Frère, wiping the blood with the back of his hand. "Nobody is." Grasping embedded dagger in his side, he shook with intense pain and jerked it out. Half-looking at him. "As long as there are people who knows about Âme, you and I are not safe." Flashing a devilishly smile. "You are good, André. To be the first to stab me, that's an honor."

"There's no honor in hurting people," André spat, carrying Omi in his arms. "You got what you wanted from me. Why them? Manx, Yoji, Ken, Aya and Omi. They're on our side!" 

"I wanted to know," Frère got into his feet, clutching his injured side. "Why they bother to be in this bloody business? All because of this journalist, Seta Sakimoto? These humans have an intriguing sentimental towards their own kind. Not only that, they became assassins to kill the corrupt and bring the weak to the light while they shut themselves in the darkness." He grunted. "Why bother to sacrifice themselves to Hell?" 

"Humans are such nosy beings, poking their noses in things they shouldn't. Darn, Fideline. Without _Naissance_, this whole trip has become meaningless!" 

"In other words, this whole Âme project is worthless. How many people are going to die? Frère, this has to end!" André hissed. "Enough with secrets, lying, riddles, running, fleeing, killing or what not. There must be an end to this senseless path of deaths." 

"There will be an ending," Frère hotly replied. "When Gloven and all of Âme are pulling up the daises!" 

"Then stop hurting me, Frère! Help me instead." 

"Discontinue your foolish emotions. It is risky to put your trust on people like them! Darn, it was wrong of me to let Sakimoto take you to Japan. You should have gone with Shella and me." 

"To do what? To lead a life set by the rules of Âme," André burst out, new weary overwhelmed him. "By the love of Bon Dieu, you are still living like you were at Âme. Stop living in the past and move on!" 

'_Se Taire_!" Frère held up his hand. "Enough wimpy talk and get going." Facing the door, "Right now, I rather vent myself on the house flies with their toy guns than with you." Taking out a cigarette and lighting it. "Remember, André, die than to be caught. Gloven will still be able to fulfill his dreams once he has either of us. _Naissance, Pierce Tombale,_ _Longévité_ and the hard disk were basically decoys for him. The real data are actually us." 

"And how would you know?" 

"Gerald Hermil, the president of Âme and his co-president, Jeremy Jorom. They told me." Puffing out a cloud of smoke. "With some addition persuading of my own right before they died." André opened a windowsill and began to climb out with Omi slung upon his shoulder. 

"André!" Frère smirked at the paused figure. "Don't think it is over yet. When we meet again, I'll kill that boy." 

André said nothing and disappeared into the shadows. 

"At least there's one part of Frère that I know," Shella said gruffly, her hair flapping in the wind. "He's anomalous in his thoughts and actions." 

"As always," agreed André, tightly holding the sleeping Omi in his blankets. "I don't know what is he trying to do. Is he helping us or Gloven?" Rising his voice. "How far are we before we reach _Hibou _Bridge?" 

"5 miles to be exact," answered Manx. "Let's hope for a smooth ride." 

Booming among the treetops came a troubling chopping sound of a helicopter. Aya snatched up a shooter and started firing. Manx stepped on the accelerator. The jeep roared and speeded down the road, its tires screeched at every turn. From the corners of his eye, André could see moving vehicles zooming across the side roads. Pulling out a pistol from his right boot, he handed over to Shella. 

"Think you can fire a few more rounds?" 

"What the hell! A few more won't hurt me a bit," Shella flashed a naughty smile and began shooting at the approaching vehicles. 

André fired as well, aiming at the tires. He aimed well. The tires burst and the vehicles were moving in wobbly direction. Some crashed into each others, exploding into flames and melted rubber and metal. The scattered pieces provide an obstruction, allowing them more distance between escape and being caught. In front of him, André could see Aya having trouble aiming at the sniper while keeping his balance on the bumpy jeep. Within a blink of an eye, blood spurted out, the shooter plunged onto the ground and Aya nearly fell out if André hadn't grab him by collar and pulled him back inside. 

"Aya…" Manx could see a deep wound glistening in the black trench coat. 

"I'm alright," Aya said, clenching his shoulder. "The sniper. He's still alive." 

A loud bang was heard and down fell somebody. 

"Not anymore," ended Shella. "Step on it, Manx… Argh!" She shrieked as the green electric waves crackled from her limbs. Hot steam rose from her darkened skin. The stench of burnt skin and ruptured veins was revolting. White bubbly foam dripped from Shella's parched mouth. Her cat-eyes widened in throbbing agony as she jerked uncontrollably up and down. André passed the still sleeping Omi in Aya's care and moved towards her. 

"Shella," André seized her forcefully. "Fight it, Shella. Fight it!" 

More jeeps loaded with men and artillery rushed out from nowhere and was swarming from all sides. Manx could see the welcoming _Hibou Bridge_. However, the Calvary was at the other end. 

"Damn it!" Manx cursed. "They are not going to help us." 

"What do you mean by that?" André stared at her in disbelief. 

"Beyond the bridge is a town, a civilian area," Manx answered. "The government can't afford to have serious damages. Likewise, they aren't going to provide military to deal with Gloven's men since they wouldn't want the press to know about Âme. What a scoop when they find out." 

"In other words," Aya concluded. "We are on our own and outnumbered." 

"Trust no one," André quoted Frère's warning. "He knew this would happen." 

"Frère told me yesterday that he has an idea on how to finish off the remaining of Gloven's men but I had no idea that he's planning to use us like chess pieces," Shella coughed violently. "That bastard!" Looking up at André. "I want you to do something for me. Get me out of this jeep." 

"What?" 

"You heard me, drop me here. André, I'm dying," Shella said mechanically. "My body is rejecting _Enchaîné_ DNA entirely and the sighs are showing. There is no way I can fight against it." Cat eyes firmly locked into André's seaweed eyes. "Don't tell me about the doctors. I'm sick of them and tired of enduring the pain and living inside hell zone. Frère doesn't care a damn thing about us except himself. You have to get far away from him, you understand?" Taking in another wave of green electric sparks. "Right now, I'm burning up and might be a living time bomb. You said what would happen to me, the same thing that happens towards our brothers & sisters." 

"You can't leave me!" cried André, fighting back tears. "Not like this!" 

"I would rather die than to be in the hands of Âme or the government. Both sides want Frère and me. To them, we are a living proof of their creation that defiles the Maker. The difference is for you is that you were conceived in your mother's womb. No matter who the father may be. You mustn't let your mother and Sakimoto died in vain. _Compredez-vous(you comprend)?" _

"Shella…" 

"You were always meant for something else, André. Don't you know?" Shella smiled weakly. "Remember me, will you? That way, you'll be the proof that I existed as a human being not washed-out synthetic creature." 

With her final strength, Shella pushed André far away and heaved herself out of the jeep. Rolling and rolling, she felt the rough ground biting against her raw flesh. A concentrated burning force was flowing through her as she saw the crackling green electric waves dancing around her. Heat was consuming her but she didn't feel any pain but a strange inner sense of peace as she saw the jeep fading into a mere spot in the night. 

And for one time in her life, she embraced the green electric waves, the most picturesque sight of all. 

Onto the brightly lit _Hibou Bridge_, Manx, Aya and André saw a lime green mushroom cloud erupting upwards the heavens. At its root were flames of red, orange and copper, burning every thing in its path. 

"**_SHELLA!!!!!_** " screamed André, his wails so pain stricken and earsplitting that Frère could hear it from the river end not far from Hibou Bridge. 

Frère watched the mushroom cloud gradually breaking up into broken lines of mist and smoke. Pressing his hands to his lips, he threw a kiss at it. His voice was deep and throaty. 

"_Au revoir, mon amour_. (Goodbye, my love)" 

With 2 fingers, he made a cross sigh, from his left shoulder to the right, then from his forehead to his chest. 

"_Que tu repose en paix _(May you rest in peace). " 

**_ À Suivre _**


	9. Enchaîné Chapitre 8 Âme l’personnifica...

**Enchaîné - Chapitre 8 **

**Âme - l'personnification du humain ...**

In front of a man and a boy was the sea, spreading colours of blue & green in an amazing kaleidoscope manner. It was stained with streaks of bronze provided by the setting sun. Cotton-candied clouds floated against the darkening sky. A light sea breeze blew against their faces, filling their senses with the smell of hidden secrets of the sea. The man, wearing spectacles, turned and looked down at a young boy. A boy of shoulder length raven hair, seaweed eyes to match his angelic face. 

Straining a smile, the man knelt down and said, "Do you know what's beyond the sea?" 

The boy shook his head. 

"Beyond the sea are many lands and there are lots of people living on them," The boy stared at him, bewildered. "Yes, you'll be going with me to these places." 

The boy blinked his eyes, turned, and pointed his slender fingers at two children standing not far from them. Then, he turned back and looked at the man. 

"Your siblings," the man looked briefly at them. "They can come with us if they want to. Before we go, there is something that I have been thinking. You need a name. After all, you are a human being and all living things deserve to have names, not codes or numbers." 

"From today onwards, your name is André Masson." 

_André Masson _

"My name is André Masson," André whispered, staring at himself in the mirror. "Why this name?" 

"André," a voice spoke from behind. 

"Omi?" André walked towards him. "What are you doing here? You should be resting." 

"I can't," Omi shrugged his shoulders. "I slept too much back then." His voice grew softer. "I'm sorry about Shella. She save us from Gloven and his men." 

"Omi." 

"Yes?" 

"Who gave your name?" 

"Huh?" 

"Your name? Who gave it to you?" 

"My parents, I guess. Why?" 

"André Masson. Seta Sakimoto gave me this name," Leaning against the wall. "Without any reason, he gave me this name without an identity. For 2 years, he took me under his house and taught me other things, just a mentor and his apprentice, nothing more. He never spoke of Âme or looked at me in the eyes for more than a minute. Then, one day, he became very ill. On his deathbed, he told me to pack up my things and leave for they will catch me. And I did that without understanding why." Closing his eyes. "Now I know why." 

"André…" 

"Seta Sakimoto came here to find his sister. Instead, he found her dead and discover me, a synthetic biological life form," Lips curled into a bitter smile. "In revenge, he published his findings with Sophie's wealth and influential means and Fideline's information. He took me in, gave me a name, taught me some streetwise stuffs and that's it. Like Gloven, that's all he gave me." 

"André…" 

"Do you know what Âme means?" 

"No." 

"It means _soul_ and that's something they didn't give me. My maternal mother gave me life. Gloven gave me the survival skills. Sakimoto gave me a name but what they gave weren't enough to completed their creation." Slumping down to the floor. "All living things have a soul, the personification of a human. Do I have a soul? Am I human?" 

"André…" Omi knelt beside him. "I believe you are a human and you have a soul." His voice was steady. "Like Fideline said, you came from your mother's womb. That means you were created naturally. Being naturally created means you are a human, thus, given a soul." 

"And who gave me my soul?" 

"God did." 

"God?" André stared sightlessly at him. "Do you believe in God?" 

"I…" Omi looked away. "I'm not sure but I believe He exists." 

"He exists huh? Maybe this 'soul' thing is something you humans made up to make yourselves superior than other living beings…" André started to cough. Clutching his aching chest, he crumpled down to the floor, shaking. 

"André!" Omi bent over. "Wait here! I'll get a doctor." 

"No!" André gripped Omi's wrist. "Once they examine me, they'll know that I have _Enchaîné DNA_ in me. They might kill you and I'll landed up as lab rat." 

"But…" 

"It's all right… it's subsiding," Beads of sweat trickled down his pale face. "Don't go. Just stay with me. For a while." Seaweed eyes were pleading. "Onegai (please)…" 

"Okay," Omi replied, kneeling down again and gently lifted André upon his lap. "Here, you can rest upon my lap." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes," Omi fondled André's hair as he watched André closing his eyes into a peaceful slumber. 

Outside the room, far from the two boys' view, Aya was standing there, watching them. Turning, he walked down the hallway. Analyzing, Aya knew of two things. One, the French government had no intention to destroy Âme or any of its data, including André and Frère. Second, they have to leave France as soon as possible. Aya always hated to be involved in any stupid political pointless missions, especially this one. There would be always mad scientists creating superior beings all over the world, whether known or not. Seta Sakimoto was definitely a lucky son of a gun to stumbled upon this and his ways of having revenge was certainly idiotic! For Omi's sake, he better not gets too attached to André… 

Then, he saw his room door slightly opened. Taking out his sword from his trench coat, he slowly opened and entered. Treading inside, his eyes darted for presence of intruders. Suddenly, from the corners of his eyes, he saw something long and sparkling. Spinning, he strike, cutting off something that he had no idea what they were. Kicking the door shut, he switched on the lights. 

Standing before him, a Greek-looking man with baby blue eyes and red hair, a shade lighter than Aya's. He stood there, with a smug on his face. From his hands, merged out long lavender threads-like objects. Clapping softly, he said in a raspy voice. 

"Congratulations. You are the only one among your four comrades that sense my pretty hackers," He held up his tribal-like mask. "No, I don't intend to fight you tonight. I'm sure we can save our strength for tomorrow. Don't you think so? After all, you were shot by Gloven's snipers." 

"Shut the talk and get to the point!" 

"Don't get so cold, Aya," Frère smirked. "On the other hand, maybe that's why Shella somehow took a liking to you. Did you enjoy her kiss?" 

"You deliberately sent her to her death, knowing she was suffering the final stages of rejection." 

"And what if I did? At least, Gloven has less men now." 

"Really? Is Gloven really your target?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Since 1989, I am certain you have countless opportunities to kill Gloven. Instead, you didn't but kill the founders of Âme, their scientists and men. Though Sophie was your maternal mother, you let Gloven kill her in front of you. At the cathedral, you had every opportunity to go after Gloven while we deal with his men but you didn't. Why? Don't you want Gloven dead?" 

"Of course, he's the one who made me this way." 

"Really? I believe that you have no intention of killing Gloven. In fact, I bet you are going to let him escape tomorrow, leaving us at the French government's men. Probably, Omi, Manx and I will be killed and André a lab rat for future genetic modified humans." 

"Ridiculous!" Frère spat. 

"But it's the plan, isn't it?" Aya went on. "Have you seen the movie 'Mary Shelly's Frankenstein'?" 

"What?" 

"Let me tell you about it. 'Mary Shelly's Frankenstein' is about a scientist named Victor Frankenstein who wanted to create a superior being that doesn't succumb to illness or death. After collecting his materials and equipments, he was successful in creating one. However, after seeing the horror and abomination of his creation, he abandoned it. The creature survived and wanted revenge. So, it went after Victor and had his loved ones killed. However, it didn't kill Victor. Instead, it fled to the North and let Victor hunt it down. After months, Victor, out of exhaustion and guilt, died. It found him and wept. When someone asked him why did it weep, do you know what it said?" Seeing Frère's fist shaking. "He is my father. And in the end, it decided to end its life." 

"What's the purpose of this absurd tale?" 

"The creature sees Victor Frankenstein as his reason to live. He wants his affections and everything in him. You are like the creature, Frère. Gloven, not only is your father, he's your only purpose to live. You will kill anyone associating with him but not him. When Gloven dies, so will you." 

"_Menteuse_ (Lair)!" 

"You are very happy being with Âme because you are the best among the 1000 subjects. Gloven loves you because of your ability. You love the attention and praises he showers on you till Sakimoto came and exposed him. Once Âme is shutdown and Gloven went into hiding, you felt lost, abandoned in the world outside Âme. You couldn't bear because everything is so different and new and it frightened you. Yes, frightened you to the point that you influence Shella to be with you but you couldn't do the same with André." 

"You hate Sakimoto because he took Gloven away from you and I believe you killed him with some unknown poison. You let Gloven kill Sophie Amiel because she betrayed him and separated him from you. You kill the founders of Âme and scientists because they too betrayed Gloven and denied him of information in creating you. You wanted Gloven's men dead because they are 'taking in' your place. You used Shella because you know how much Shella wants Gloven dead and there could be only one person for Gloven. You!" 

"As for André, he's the only one opposing you and you don't like that. So, you mixed up his thoughts with your own lies and other physical activities. The real fact is you are jealous of André because he has something that you don't have." 

"And that is?" Frère hissed like a snake. 

"His ability to adapt." Aya replied. "This _Enchaîné DNA_ is nothing more than a vaccine, except it works the other way around. Instead of the body adapting to the _Enchaîné DNA_, it is the _Enchaîné DNA_ adapting to the body. Once adapted, the _Enchaîné DNA_ enchances the body in its way. However, in some subjects, the _Enchaîné DNA_ couldn't adapt itself and since it is a foreign substance, the body will reject it." 

Aya pointed at his index finger at him. "André has that ability to adapt in his new surroundings and is able to fit in but you couldn't because you couldn't accept your new environment. Out of jealousy, you deliberately let Âme chase after him. It shouldn't be a problem since you are capable of accessing into people's brains and computer systems. Nevertheless, André once again adapted and fit in each time in his new surroundings. This infuriated you because you want André to be dependant on you, to desperately need you. And now, you last resort is to threaten him that you will kill Omi if André doesn't submit to your conditions, which is what I had mentioned earlier, to be Gloven's permanent lab rat." 

"There might be other details but at least this is the picture." Aya ended. 

Frère threw back his head and burst into laughter. Aya frowned. 

"Very good, you had that all figure out," Frère gave a thumb up. "Then, tell me something. Why are you letting Omi alive, knowing full well that his father was responsible for your parents' death and your sister's condition? Ah!" Grinning at Aya flinching. "How did I know? Well, I took a little moment accessing Omi's recent memories. You told him rather harshly about it." 

"You could kill that brat very easily yet you let him live. Why? Do you need him to serve you as a remainder the reason you choose to become an assassin? Why not kill him? That way, you can complete part of your revenge. Maybe you couldn't because of Manx? Why kill her as well? People like her are always using people like you to wash their dirty laundry. Think about it. This mission has completely no meanings. Are you willing to through all the troubles because of one miserable journalist?" 

"Frankly, I don't give anything to Sakimoto, " He paused. "However, I do understand his feelings as a brother when he discovered his sister raped and killed for the baby she could produce. His feelings to learn that there are evil like Gloven who brutally used children for his own selfish ambitions. Based on these evidences, this mission does have a meaning to it and I intend to complete it." 

"Oh? And by what means?" Frère smiled sadistically. "When my men are already here." 

"Here?" 

Just then, a group of soldiers burst in, their guns locked onto Aya. Seconds later, Manx and Omi were brought in with guns pointing at their temples. Aya reluctantly surrendered. 

Bound and gagged, the trio was taken to military base near the seas. Into a room, the rags were removed from their eyes. They squirmed at the sudden brightness, blinked and slowly focused on their surroundings. Gloven was there, his bushy eyebrows shadowed over his deep-sunken eyes. The half-grayish hair was cropped, enhancing his rectangular face twice the original size, including his hawk nose. 

"Welcome, my _Japonais amies_ (Japanese friends), " He greeted. "How kind of you all to join us." 

"Cut the crap, where's André?" Omi angrily responded. "What have you done with him?" 

"Chutzpah this little one is," Gloven placed his thumb and index finger on Omi's chin. Omi glared. "I could see why you have interest in this one, Frère. He's young, naïve and unaware of the tracking device you placed in his jacket." 

Merely rising his hand, the men nodded and activated a switched. Instantaneously, the metal floor opened and out came a long table. Lying on top of the metal table, a man bound in place by straps on his forehead, neck, wrists, waist and ankles. Tubes, wires and needles are attached all over his body, monitoring every aspects of the body. 

"André!" Omi struggled to break free. One of the soliders kicked him in the stomach, forcing Omi down on his knees. "Damn you…" 

"My little prey has come back to me," Walking towards the table, he looked down and observed. "Fideline does deserve credit for her results. Very beautiful," Lustfully fingering over the naked skin, "A mixture of European and Oriental blood." Pressing the raven black hair, the sleeping eyes and the lips, "A sleeping beauty. I can see you have a selected taste for men, Frère." Taking out a syringe and inserting it. "Now, we must see what did Fideline gave him. Rectify the defected genes, brainwash him a little and he'll be ours forever." 

"You are a sick animal, Gloven," Manx spat. "Your government will not stand such barbarianism." 

"But you're wrong, Manx," Gloven handed the filled syringe to his subordinate. "You see. The government still needs me. I'm the thorn in the flesh that cannot be moved because the blood will spurt out the moment it is removed. I'm the foundation that made this country. I'm what is France is here today. I'm their father, mother and the root of their existence. Without me, they will be lost like stupid sheep. Do you really think they give a damn about a bunch of foreigners? Very soon, every country will see my vision and embrace it as their own. You three will be mere dust in the wind. Long forgotten." 

"Now, let's study André's DNA while he's still in sub-conscious state. Afterwards, we'll have a hunt. Ah! I see the good doctor has it in view." 

The huge screen displayed a crystal blue double helix model of the strands in twisted and distorted snake-like forms, emitting blue luminous light. Scrolls of numbers and letters rolled down the computer screens while another displayed André's breathing and pulse rates. 

"Amazing," Gloven marveled, then his brows puckered at the sight of strands breaking apart. "What is this, doctor?" 

"I don't know, Sir," stammered the doctor. "I never see anything like this before but," Quickly saying, "I believe the DNA are rearranging themselves." 

"Yes, I can see that!" Gloven grew impatient. "But in what formation?" 

"I'm able to determine that now…" 

"Determine it now before I blow your brains off." 

"Wait!" Frère interrupted, seeing the strands twining themselves. "It's going back to a normal human DNA strand." 

"What?" Gloven bellowed, watching the blue luminous light dimming away in microseconds. "What about happened to _Enchaîné DNA_? Doctor?" 

"The system is unable to detect it," stammered the doctor. 

Frère pushed the doctor and inserted his lavender veins into the system. Closing his eyes and concentrated, he muttered. "The doctor is right. The system can't pick _Enchaîné DNA_ anywhere." Looking at the pulse rate screen. "It like it has disappeared and its disappearance has not affected André in any way." 

"Does that mean that Fideline has found a way to revert the_ Enchaîné DNA_?" Gloven felt humiliated, cheated of his ultimate triumph in creating more of his children. Suddenly, he took out his gun and aimed it at André. "Then, he's of no use to me!" 

"Wait! Father…" 

"General Gloven," He snapped. "Everyone will address me with this title, including you!" 

"With due respect, General Gloven," Frère bitterly continued. "It is suggested to wait for 24 hours more before concluding. What we have seen could be the initial stage of its transformation. While waiting, it is best to get rid of the _Japonais_ as soon as possible." 

Gloven stood like a rock for an intensely long period of time. Nodding his head, he yelled out. "Take them to the hunt!" Glaring at Frère, "I want the woman. Choose your pick between the other two." Glancing at the sleeping André. "Let us hope that your analyze does come to pass or else, you'll be next!" 

The hunt was a vast space of forest with all its trees, undergrowth, miniature ponds and all its earthly scents. Manx and Aya were given five minutes for their head start. They had no weapons and against a troop of military trained men. Aya had plenty to worry about. As much he respected Manx, she may be capable in dealing a few but he had an awful feeling Gloven had his eyes on her. For Omi, He wasn't certain if they had release him somewhere else or they didn't. No matter what, his thoughts on André would distract him from fighting properly and that was what Frère wanted. Out of the blue, bullets burst into the open, forcing Aya & Manx to split in different directions. 

André felt he was floating between times, buoying by an unknown force. His face turned skyward to the darkened space. He though he was awake but he couldn't see or speak, not fully conscious of what had befallen on him. Drifting in and out in the darkness, reaching back or falling, he couldn't tell. Inaudible voices were muttering around him. For a moment, André thought he had died. 

Then, out of the blankness, he heard a voice calling out to him, echoing over and over. Upwards was a thin strong light, a warm and inviting light. The voice seemed to be coming from there. Once again, he heard the voice whispering to him. 

_What is your name? _

_André Masson… _

_André Masson… is that who you really are?? _

_Yes… I'm André Masson… _

_If this is who you are… Then… Awake! André Masson… _

Then, everything changed in an instant, the light, the voice, his sense of time and space – all disappeared. As his senses returned to him, he realized he wasn't floating but lying on a hard, cold surface in a white room of glaring lights, beeping sounds and monotonous ratting of something mechanical. Tubes and wires were all over him. 

André remembered then. He was coughing badly and Omi was with him. He didn't want to be alone and he asked Omi to stay with him. Omi agreed. He fell asleep for some time till he heard the thumping of army boots. They came and he was too weak to fight. 

Squinting against the lights, André thought there was someone towering over him. Vaguely, the image blurred in fuzzy colours of white, black, red and blue. It spoke something inaudible, it sounded raspy, nasal, with a similar accent. He wanted to get up but for an unknown reason, he couldn't. Gradually, the image cleared into defined lines and curves. André felt his stomach contracting. 

"Awake, André?" Frère asked, his baby-blue eyes dark and smoldering. 

Hiding low beneath the trees, Aya surveyed the area for Gloven's men. Like he expected, they were lying low and armed. Down on his belly, he crawled his way towards them. Stained in mud, he crept up to a fallen truck and stayed very still. Luckily for him, one lone solider was approaching. Swiftly as a deadly snake, Aya pounced on him, pinned him down and broke his neck in one smooth motion. Digging through the clothes, Aya took out all the weapons he could find and use. Dragging the corpse down to the mud, he tossed dried leaves and twigs over it. 

Half running, Aya caught sight of more soliders. Merging into the surroundings, he hid once again. This time, a handful of soliders marched past. Sneaking from behind, Aya took a dagger, grabbed the solider last in the line and slit his throat. Examining the dead soldier's belongings, he found a silencer. Attaching it onto his gun, he climbed up a tree as quietly and nimbly as a cat. Targeting them, Aya shot them all dead before any of them to realize what was happening. With a heavy sigh, he took out a water tumbler and took a deep long drink. 

Then, a loud booming shot shattered the silence. 

The water tumbler slipped from Aya's hands. 

Manx was running for her life, rather desperately. She knew someone was stalking her, deliberately missing her with his gunshots, taking his time in calculating the best time to capture and to kill her. Tree branches were scratching her arms, legs and face, mud and dirt was covering her and she hated it. Not so much of the dirt but because she hated to be the prey. 

A hunter's prey. 

Without warning, General Gloven burst out of the dense surroundings, knocking her flat to the ground. Manx felt his full heavy body weight on her, squeezing the every breath out of her. Struggling as hard as she could, she kicked relentlessly at him. One of them struck hard right at Gloven's face. Scrambling to her feet, she picked up the nearest branch she could find and hammered him over and over. However, the General was tough and he caught the branch with one hand and struck her across the hand with the other. Manx fell, rolling onto the earth. 

Gloven came closer, pulled Manx up by the hair and punched her in the stomach. She winced at the thundering pain as Gloven pushed her backwards. Pinning her hands to the ground, Gloven roughly placed his leg between Manx's legs, shifting his body further in. Manx felt Gloven's stench upon her. Wiggling fiercely, she tried to break free even for an instant. Gloven laughed, enjoying every moment of his prey in her helplessness. She was screaming and her screams excited him more. With his hand tightly gripping both of her wrists, Gloven proceed on to undress her, placing his filthy fingers onto her soft oriental assets, squeezing and spreading. 

Suddenly, something solid struck upon his head. It came one at a time, then repeatedly, blinding Gloven completely. He tumbled down in the soil, almost tasting the bits of bark, leaves and roots in his mouth. A boot stamped heavily onto him. Then, something hard was inserted inside his mouth. He knew what it was and before he could do anything, Darkness swallowed him. 

Manx rose to her knees, coughing and shaking all over. A black coat was wrapped around her. A pair of strong and steady arms was cradling her in his comforting warmth. 

"_Arigatou_ (Thank you). Aya." She whispered. 

**_ À Suivre _**


	10. Enchaîné Chapitre 9 Au Revoir

**Enchaîné - Chapitre 9 **

**Au Revoir **

"Awake, André?" Frère smiled roguishly. "Don't talk. Allow me to remove these obstructive things." André felt his bounds falling apart, recoiling at the prickling sensation removal of the tubes and wires. He sat upright and shivered. The room was terribly cold. Rubbing himself, he suddenly understood why. He wasn't wearing any clothes. 

Flushing in awkwardness, André looked away, his cheeks tingling. Frère said nothing as he placed a pile of clothes onto a desk. He came closer and firmly placed his arms on André's slim shoulders. Drawing him nearer, Frère whispered, his voice ragged with desire. 

"_Comme toujours, tu es beaux_, " Nestling his face into the raven locks and took a deep long breath. "You always are." Lowering, he kissed the soft part of André's neck as his hands roamed down his back. Using a bit of strength, he ravenously moved his lips against André's and shoved his tongue down his throat, heightening himself in the sweetness. He wanted more, so much more. He wanted André to be his. He could persuade Gloven to make André his. If he wouldn't cooperate, then he would just have to kill him. Whatever, the red-haired Aya said was a load of rubbish. He was always the survivor, a being for himself. He was no man's object. Though Gloven may be his father, he's just his last prey. He must suffer more. For now, he yearned for André to be fully his. 

"Frère… no…" André writhed beneath Frère's weight. He was all over him, licking him, touching him. Like he always do. André was getting dizzy and his mind dissolved at the caressing, aflame with the growing heat from both their bodies. It was so addictive. 

Then, he heard Frère said, "You are forever mine, _Neuf-trois-sept-neuf._ " 

It hit André like an iron hammer. He looked up at Frère, in the midst of the sweaty face, he saw Haughtiness gleaming in the innocent baby-blue eyes. Then, something snapped. With sudden burst of energy, he shoved Frère away. Standing up, he headed for the nearest basin. Turning on the tap, he splashed himself with icy cold water. Too bad, there wasn't a bathroom around. He badly wanted to wash himself; to cleanse every spot that Frère had touched him. Most importantly, he needed clothes. 

Frère was taken back by the abrupt response, it never happened before. André never did that before. He would always stayed still until he was finished. Upset, he went towards him and stretched out his hands to touch him. 

"Get away from me!" André hissed acidly, hurriedly walked to the desk and quickly put on the clothes. 

"Neuf-trois-sept-neuf…" 

"My name is André Masson, damn it!" His seaweed flashed anger. "Is that too difficult for you to understand?" Feeling slightly better in clothes, André lowered his tone. "I'm not in Âme any more. Period." 

"Ha!" Frère snarled; his face hardened. "Is what you think? Where do you think you are? You are in the every core of Âme. Right now, your friends are fighting for their every lives in the Hunt." Turning to the keyboards, he clicked on a few buttons and the screens automatically displayed the different area sections of the Hunt. "All of your _Japonais amies_ will die and you'll be alone. You will need me to escape from Gloven's clutches! You'll need me, Neuf-trois-sept-neuf ! " 

"No, I don't!" André boldly replied. "I don't need you to escape from Gloven or Âme. In fact, I don't need to run anymore. I'm freed, Frère." He pounded his fist upon his heart. "I'm free to go anywhere. I can live as a normal person. I can live in places where people can accept me. I don't need you. I can do it on my own." 

"_Ca ne vent rien dire!_ (RUBBISH)." Frère screamed, slamming his fists on the keyboards. "You can never do this alone. You need me! I have been looking for you all these years! I…" 

"What you have done is nothing but pain! You have driven me away from everyone whom I come in contact with. Every time, I settled at a place, you will chase me out from it! You never love me! You just want to use me as you used Shella!" André flared. "You never intend to kill Gloven from the beginning! Instead, you let him live! Why? Tell me why can't you kill him? Why can't you end all of this hellhole?" 

Frère stiffened, a lump stayed fix in his throat. Rage was erupting within himself and he couldn't release it in words. Digging his nails into his palms, he banged his fist onto a button. The screen changed and displayed a boy chained to a tree. André was startled. 

"Yes, André…" Frère sounded like a harsh winter wind. "Your darling little Omi. He's located in the mid area of the Hunt. I intend to keep what I said. I will kill that brat! Unless, you submit yourself to me." 

"Go to Hell!" 

"Fine!" Frère pushed another button, activating an entrance. "If you can reach that place before me, we'll settle our fight once and for all. If not, your little brat will die!" 

"Damn you!" André charged towards him as the door closed behind Frère's back. Pounding his fists onto the metal door, André clenched his teeth in fury. "Damn you…" 

Struggling against his chain-bounded predicament, Omi had false hope of weakening them by rubbing them against the tree bark that peeled off as easily as peeling apple. There was a pathetic feeling to pit wood against the old-fashioned metal! Not to mention the ants that swamped the ground he was standing on. His stomach contacted at the thought that he was chained to an ant habitation. Cringing at the thought of the ants crawling into his clothes, Omi decided to stay as still as possible to avoid the ants' fury and their stinging bites. 

The snapping sound if dry twigs perked Omi's ears. Surveying the area, he saw no one but his instincts served him well for there was someone hiding behind the green and brown camouflage of the forest. That wasn't good for someone whose position was like a sitting duck. A chained sitting duck. 

Hearing than seeing, an arrow wheezed towards him. Quickly, he barely turned his head herself just before it struck. The loud thud thundered in his right ear and splinters of wood shattered to the ground, infuriating the ants. Omi could feel the horrible tickling sensation of them crawling down his neck. That was rather incomparable to the one who nearly shot him. Dressed in leathery black with crossbows in his hair, Frère grinned devilishly at him. Stepping heavily on the ground, the ants swarmed about the thick soles of his boots frantically. 

Slinging the crossbows upon his back, he approached Omi like a hunter approaching his captured prey. Removing his gloves, the lavender threads sprouted out from his skin, wriggling and twirling about. Omi's eyes widened at the remembrance of his first encounter with them. Frère flashed his white teeth in enjoyment of seeing the fear so purely displayed in the Japanese boy's eyes. That was the moment he took pleasure in every time a victim was his grasp. This one would be the most pleasurable of all. He couldn't wait to see André's expression when he found him limp and lifeless. Then, nobody could stop him from making André his forever. 

"What's the matter?" Omi felt the lavender threads caressing the sides of his face and Frère's hot breath. "Expecting someone else? I won't be propping into your brain like the last time. Instead," One of the lavender threads slowly inserted itself into Omi's neck, making him winced. "I'll make sure you have just enough to say your last words to André before I make him mine." He gripped Omi's hair and pulling his head backwards. "No one can have him except me. I'll spare no one who gets close to him, not even a little school boy like you." 

"You're sick," Omi hissed painfully as the lavender thread went deeper into his veins. "No wonder André left you!" 

"Oh really?" Frère smirked as more of his lavender threads went deeper into Omi's neck. It was a thrill to see him biting his lip in effects not to scream. "Why don't you scream like you did before? I love to hear screams from little boys like you." 

Omi did not answer or could not answer as he bit his lip till blood spilled out. The lavender threads were like worms wriggling their way down into his veins and flesh. Suddenly, a loud high-pitched scream pierced through the air, temporarily removing the pain. His eyes widen at the recognition of the scream. It was Manx's. An instant later, an awful gunshot followed, freezing Omi into solid ice. 

Frère, seeing Omi's whitened face, removed the lavender threads. Seizing the chains, he yanked them as if they were cotton, breaking them without breaking a sweat. With his hand clutching Omi by the collar, he tossed him aside. Omi collapsed upon a bed of grass and coughed, spitting out saliva and blood. Frère towered over him and taunted. 

"Did you recognize your lady friend's scream? Father probably had his fun before he shot her dead. Funny, he usually takes his own sweet time till he feels it's ripe." Smirking. "Oh well, I'm certain he did have…" 

Before he could complete his sentence, Omi charged his elbow right into Frère's side, staggering him. From behind, he took out a branch, its weight bearable enough, and struck Frère's left hand, causing him to drop the crossbows. Another blow from the branch to keep him off-balance, Omi stooped down, picked up the crossbows and fired. Frère rolled over, evading the arrows. Snarling like a wild beast, he charged, closing the distance between them. Instinctively, Omi plunged the crossbow into Frère's stomach and kicked him hard in the chin. Frère felled backwards, his hands pressing against his wounds. 

Spinning, Omi ran into the leafy barriers, heedless of where he was going. He didn't care. There was only one thought in his mind and that was he had to survive this nightmare one way or the other. Tears welled lightly in his eyes at sudden remembrance of Manx's screams and the gunshot. Did Gloven really kill her? What about Aya? Was he still alive? A daunting chill crept down in his spine at the possibility of him being the sole survivor. Shaking his head furiously, Omi tried to brush them away. He wasn't alone. He couldn't be alone. He didn't want to be alone. He must think that Manx and Aya were safe and somewhere else. 

Heading into the thick shelter undergrowth, he forced himself to blend in with the surroundings. His heart was pounding continuously and his whole body reeked of sweat and blood. Panting, he peered through the brushes and prayed Frère wasn't there. He was. Half praying, Omi hoped Frère would go away. He was afraid of him and he never had that fear. Was the fear he was experiencing the same from all those he assassinated in his previous missions? Then, all was quiet and still. 

Omi was shaking uncontrollably and he knew he should be. 

Frère was looking right at him. 

Meanwhile, André was running aimlessly through the forest, half sick with anxiety that he was too late to save Omi. Frère had hid his tracks well and it was impossible to determine Omi's location from the computer screens. Then, he ran across a pile of dead soliders. Stopping for a moment, he studied them for a second. No. Frère didn't kill them for the killer blows were too clean, just like a Japanese swordsman. Then, he heard someone coming. Positioning himself, he prepared to make the kill. Out from the bushes, Aya with Manx leaning against his shoulders. They both looked like they needed a bath as much as he needed one. 

"Aya! Manx!" André exclaimed with relief. "Thank le Bon Dieu that you are both alive! Did you see Omi?" 

"They split us up the moment we entered the Hunt." Aya wearily replied. "We need to get back inside and hacked into the computer system. It's time to get out of here. How did you get here?" 

"Frère let me go," Seeing Aya & Manx's frowns. "However, he intends to kill Omi. Here." Tossing them two cards. "These are security cards that I took from the remaining soliders. Use them to gain access to the airfield. You should be able to use the communication system at the control room." 

"Fine," Manx took the cards. "Find Omi and then meet us at the airfield…" 

At that moment, the trio heard a high-pitched scream. 

And that same very moment, Omi genuinely believed he was in Hell. In a breath, hundreds of Frère's lavender threads sprouted out and hanged on to Omi like magnets. Then, like parasites, they sunk into his flesh and began their operation. Omi felt himself being set on fire. Oxygen left his lungs with stunning suddenness, making his whole body numb with shock. Through the blinding pain, he saw the lavender threads changing their colour to bright red. It was like they were draining his blood away. 

Frère smirked as he watched the boy's eyes dilating at each further affliction. His face was contorted with agony and his mouth gaped opened, screaming endlessly. He smiled at the sound of his prey's submission. 

"You know," Smiling nastily. "Not only I can suck information from people's minds but also their blood or any other useful body fluids that I could use to replenish myself whether it's for a meal or a snack." 

Raising his fingers slightly, the threads slider their way out of Omi's body and back into Frère's. Omi collapsed. Waves of dizziness were overwhelming him like an insane torrent as the images blurred and cleared repeatedly. His whole body was stiffened and immobile. Frère was bending down, knocking Omi flat on the ground. The baby-blue eyes stared ravenously the moment he ripped Omi's shirt apart, exposing his bare naked skin. Once more, the lavender threads merged out from his hands. Two went into his right wrist and another two on his left, making Omi cried out in anguish again. Frère continued to fondle him like he was his precious little jewel, caressing at the sensitive areas. Every now and then, Omi moaned helplessly. He wanted so much to let the darkness overcome him, to end the ordeal. 

As for Frère, it was a splendid time for him. Right now, he would teach this little prey hands-on experience on the thrill of leisurely killing one's prey, gradually draining him of everything, his body, mind and soul. Unfortunately, Omi would be the one having the luxury of living. 

But like all enjoyments that ended rudely, an excruciating pain went through his flesh and bone, sending down a shaking sensation in the nerves of his body. He howled and stared at what originally should have been a right arm. Turning around, he saw André holding a bloody circular disc in his hands. 

"You!" Frère shrieked, lavender threads spurted out from the opening wound and twisted themselves round and round till they formed an arm-like object. "How did you get Shella's disc?" 

"Fun's over. Get your filth off him!" André scowled, throwing the disc at him. The spinning disc struck at every tree, cutting them like sticks. Frère was forced to jump away to avoid the crushing weight of the trees. André leaped and carried Omi across his shoulders. The disc flew back. André caught it and the disc automatically shrinks itself to the size of a penny and sunk beneath his palm. 

"Shella gave it to me before she died," André replied, holding out a couple of ball-sized grenades between his fingers. "It's over, Frère." Suddenly, the ground trembled and dark clouds of smoke billowed up the skies above. "The sound you heard is the laboratory crumbling to pieces, the barracks and all that military stuffs that Âme has. You see. I may not have that fancy worms that you have but at least, I know how to blow up Âme's vital resources. Now, if you will excuse me," Smirking. "We have to go now. There's nothing left for us to stay." He threw down the bombs, releasing tons of gray smokescreens. 

"Smokescreens?" Frère saw two shadowy figures. "I can see through right it!" From his belt, he took out mean-looking daggers and threw them. To his horror, the daggers struck nothing but tree trucks. He had missed. He never missed before. Running out of the smokescreens, he twisted and turned, straining his senses to detect either of them. He couldn't. Then, a realization came to him about what Gloven mentioned about the _Enchaîné DNA_. Could it be that Fideline did not intend to break down the _Enchaîné DNA_ to a normal human DNA in the first place? 

In rage, Frère screamed. So intense like an insane flood that anyone could hear it, including Aya and Manx at the airfield control station. Seeing the dark clouds of smoke, she smiled at signs that the madness was at its end. Using the security cards, she had sent a distress signal to her sources. With hope and lots of luck, they might send a rescue plane faster than the speed of sound and get them out of this senseless hellhole. 

Preparing themselves at the co-ordinations of the airfield, Aya and Manx saw André running towards them, carrying Omi in his arms. His speed was like a jaguar or even faster. In Manx's opinion, she didn't care a damn about what happened to the _Enchaîné DNA_ anymore. André had kept his part of the bargain and she would keep hers. Aya took over and carried Omi. Manx was relieved that he was still alive despite his bloodless whitened face. He was still breathing and mumbling inaudible words. 

"That psycho is still alive?" Manx snapped at André, angered that Omi had fallen victim twice to him. 

Before André could reply, the four heard a dreadful beast like scream. Walking out of the smoke clouds was Frère; his baby-blue eyes were blazing murderously. He had a crazed look and the veins in his face were standing out in livid ridge. His red hair was flaring like hell's fire. Frère was about to attack André when he spots Manx. 

"The bitch is still alive?" He mocked, his eyes nearly budged out. "How?" 

"Nothing much she can handle," Aya undauntedly replied. "Gloven's dead." 

"But…" Frère looked like a bullet had hit him. "I heard the bitch screaming and the gunshot." 

"Sure you did," Aya continued. "I shot him." He remained stoical. "Remember what I said about Mary Shelly's Frankenstein, when the creature found Victor Frankenstein dead, he died as well. In other words, it's over for Âme. It's all over for you. Our mission has ended." 

"Lies! All Lies!" Frère stormed. "Nothing has ended, nothing has!" 

"Yes, it has!" André rebut, his seaweed eyes flashed boldness. "In fact, it was all over in the 1989 shutdown. The only problem was people like you & Gloven who couldn't let go of the past and hang on to it. What accomplishment did we make? Either sides have won or lost. Let go it hold, Frère. You can start over…" 

"I SHALL NOT!!! ÂME STARTED WHEN I WAS CREATED! IT WILL NEVER END UNTIL I SAID SO!!!" 

Frère launched forward, totally losing control of himself. André wheeled around and barely avoided Frère who leaped from behind to attack. Moving swiftly, he gave a turning kick to Frère in the midsection. Frère was thrown back but his long legs enable to knock André off his feet. Throwing himself on top of him, he gave a strong head butt. Blood spurted out from André's forehead but he managed to lift up his legs and gave a kick in Frère's lower section. 

Aya stood there, witnessing the bloody fighting scene. Both men looked like they were going to tear each other apart. Frère had completely lost his mind and became a savage beast. He was right in his analysis after all. Frère did need Gloven for survival. Now, he's gone. There was nothing he could lose. At his last end, he resorted to the last code of any solider - to die in honour in a battlefield, to die in the hands of the last Âme child. Aya felt a tiny bit of pity for Frère. What sort of honour could he gain in this? In the ultimate, the bitter truth remained. 

There was no honour in taking a life. There never was. 

All of a sudden, Frère's right arm morphed into a sword and he tried to stab André. However, André was quicker as his disc produced out of his palm by itself and sliced aggressively through Frère's abdomen. Sinking deeply, Frère's half body burst out trails of internal organs and hot dark blood. Some of them splashed heavily upon André's face, the touch of its heat horrified him. At the heavy thud of the body, André dropped his disc. Its clattering rang in his ears. He dropped to his knees, next to Frère's upper half of his body. 

Vomiting blood, saliva and other body fluids, Frère's face tightened with pain, then relaxed, the face tightened again. The eyes squeezed shut and opened. The hands grasped feebly in the air. With his remaining energy, he said something, which was more than a whisper. 

"Comme toujours, tu es beaux… (As always, you are beautiful)" He gave a sigh, baby-blue eyes portrayed tremendous pain, then emptiness as his body collapsed and stayed still. 

At Tokyo International Airport, Omi was at the viewing section, watching the arrival and departure of the colourful airplanes. For once, he left very secure to be in his homeland. 4 months had passed since they left Âme to its grave. Manx had made sure that all records of Seta Sakimoto were erased; clearly indicating she wanted nothing to do with Âme. What ever happened to the Enchaîné DNA in André? Nobody knew for sure. Aya only theorized that the _Enchaîné DNA_ restructured its biological structure to fit itself into the human DNA. Whether it was real or not, nobody gave a damn about it. One thing for sure, nobody mentioned a single word about Âme, including André who went about on his things quietly, keeping himself aloof for some time. 

As promised, Manx provided him with new identifications and passports. With them, André decided to start afresh in Canada as a literature teacher in some university. Omi was happy for him and yet slightly jealous because he was able to start an ordinary life as he wished for. 

Unlike him. 

The time for his departure to Canada was approaching, André, dressed in plain T-shirt & jeans with a coat, softly thanked the Weib boys and Manx for their help. Then, he beckoned to Omi for a private word. Standing at a corner, Omi looked at André like the first time he saw him. A young man with shoulder-length raven hair contrasting to the fairly creamy skin with eyebrows were arched and trimmed finely at the far end, seaweed green eyes and a soft curved nose in the middle of his feminine face, ending with his kissable lips. 

"Omi," André said. "I want to thank you for telling me that I have a soul. That really help back there. " 

"How?" Omi gave a puzzled look. 

"Back there, when they had all that stuffs on me. I heard a voice calling out to me. So gentle and loving and for once, I felt completely perfect." Glancing at Omi. "Oh well, I suppose I had a spiritual encounter or something. I don't know." Shrugging his shoulders before he recomposed himself. "Omi, do you know how to bid farewell in European style?" 

Omi shook his head. André smiled and told him to close his eyes. 

He did. 

And he did not regret it. 

**_ Fin _**

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